THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 


THE    MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

NEW  YORK    •    BOSTON   •    CHICAGO   •    DALLAS 
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THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OP  CANADA,  LTD. 

TORONTO 


THE  RECONSTRUCTION 
OF    RELIGION 

A  SOCIOLOGICAL  VIEW, 


BY 

CHARLES  A.  ELLWOOD,  Ph.D. 

PROFESSOR  OF  SOCIOLOGY  IN  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 

AUTHOR  OF   "THE  SOCIAL  PROBLEM,"    "AN  INTRODUCTION 

TO  SOCIAL  PSYCHOLOGY,"   ETC. 


gorfe 

THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 
1922 

All  rights  reserved 


PRINTED  IX  TIIF.  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


COPYRIGHT,  1922, 
BY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

Set  up  and  electrotyped.    Published  April,  1922. 


FERRIS 

PRINTING  COMPANY 
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To  my  son, 
WALTER  BRECKENBIDGE  ELLWOOD, 

and  to  all  of  his  generation, 
who  have  before  them  the  heavy 
task  of  building  a  world  of 
justice,  good  will,  and  peace. 


4895 


PKEFACE 

IN  previous  works  the  author  has  repeatedly  said: 
"One  of  the  greatest  social  needs  of  the  present  is  a  re- 
ligion adapted  to  the  requirements  of  modern  life  and  in 
harmony  with  modern  science."  x  Since  the  beginning 
of  the  Great  War  a  number  of  the  most  dispassionate  and 
detached  thinkers  of  our  time  have  expressed  the  same 
general  idea.  Two  eminent  British  sociologists  have  re- 
cently expressed  themselves  thus:  "We  are  compelled  to 
the  admission  (one  hard  for  the  student,  the  man  of  pure 
or  applied  science),  that  the  essential  problem  of  life  is 
not  material,  but  psychical.  In  a  word,  life  needs  to  be 
eupsychic;  or  in  an  older  word,  religious."  In  May, 
1916,  Mr.  G.  Lowes  Dickinson  said  in  a  private  conver- 
sation with  the  author,  "If  I  should  guess,  I  would  say 
that  the  great  need  of  the  world,  just  at  present,  is  more 
religion.  Of  course,  I  mean  religion  of  the  right  sort; 
of  religion  of  a  certain  sort  there  is  a  plenty,  but  not 
enough  of  the  right  sort."  3  Again,  in  March,  1915,  the 
author  had  the  pleasure  of  visiting  with  Mr.  Frederic 
Harrison,  the  veteran  leader  of  the  English  Positivists. 
Mr.  Harrison  forcefully  expressed  the  opinion  that  the 
Great  War  was  due  to  the  decadence  of  ethical  religion, 
and  that  the  problem  of  world  peace  and  order  would 
never  be  settled  until  the  religious  question  was  settled. 

1  See  Introduction  to  Social  Psychology,  p.  273;   The  Social  Prob- 
lem, Revised  Edition,  p.  217. 

2  Branford  and  Geddes,  The  Coming  Polity,  p.  242. 

1  See  also  the  statements  in  his  work,  Religion:  a  Criticism  and  a 
Forecast. 

vii 


PKEFACE 

He  has  since  expressed  substantially  the  same  view  in 
recent  books.1 

Unlike  the  last  two  social  thinkers  just  cited,  the  pres- 
ent writer  would  find  the  religion  needed  by  the  modern 
world  in  a  more  rational,  revitalized,  socialized  Chris- 
tianity. He  agrees  much  more  nearly  with  another  emi- 
nent leader  of  Anglo-American  ethical  and  religious  think- 
ing, who,  though  like  the  two  preceding  in  his  detach- 
ment from  conventional  religious  circles,  yet  has  found 
it  possible  to  say:  "Christianity,  as  soon  as  it  has  become 
transfused  with  the  spirit  and  transformed  by  the  method 
of  modern  science,  will  bring  about  the  Millennium."  2 
The_tiies_i.a  of  this  book,  however,  is  rather  that  it  is  only  a 
I  Christianity  of  this  sort  which  is  equal  to  the  task  of 
saving  modern  civilization,  and  of  harmonizing  its  war- 
ring interests,  classes,  nations,  and  races.  To  this  extent  » 
the  author  is  in  accord  with  those  thinkers  who  see  in  a 
religious  awakening  the  only  hope  of  bringing  our  world 
back  to  social  sanity  and  good  will.3  But  he  would  add 
that  the  religious  spirit  can  be  revivified  only  when  re- 
ligion is  brought  into  harmony  with  men's  unquestioned 
scientific  beliefs  and  with  their  social  needs — that  is,  into 
harmony  with  science  and  democracy.  Intelligence  rather 
^f  than  emotion  or  tradition  should  guide,  accordingly,  in 
t  the  religious  life. 

The  modern  world  is  completely  torn  asunder  by  con- 
flicting ideals  of  life.  It  will  continue  to  remain  in  this 
condition  until  there  is  some  unity  in  social  doctrine. 
But  there  is  hope  in  all  this  confusion  that  the  mass  of 
men  are  coming  to  see  that  it  is  impossible  for  either 


1  See  especially  The  German  Peril,  pp.  266-260. 

1  Dr.  Stanton  Coit,  The  Soul  of  America,  p.  247. 

1  Sop  especially  Kidd,   The  Science  of  Power;  also  Patrick,   The 
Psychology  of  Social  Reconstruction,  p.  286. 

viii 
>^^"T       (   $  u  >  V  < 


PREFACE 

individuals  or  nations  to  live  together  harmoniously  upon 
the  basis  of  the  pagan  and  barbarous  ideals  of  life  which 
have  been  handed  down  in  the  traditions  of  our  civilization 
and  which  some  men,  without  adequate  sociological  knowl- 
edge, have  endorsed.  There  is  hope,  in  other  words,  that 
through  calamity,  if  in  no  other  way,  men  are  slowly 
coming  to  a  sense  of  the  value  of  likemindedness  and  of 
good  will  among  all  men.  Science,  through  its  progres- 
sive demonstration  of  the  truth  in  all  fields  of  human 
interest,  is  slowly  showing  men  how  to  achieve  likemind- 
edness as  regards  the  essential  problems  of  human  living. 
But  the  program  of  applied  social  science  cannot  be  car- 
C  ried  out  without  good  will  among  men;  and  herein  lies 
the  supreme  importance  of  social  religion.  Religion  con- 
cerns itself  with  social  values.  By  intensifying  and  uni- 
versalizing them  it  gives  rise  to  the  life-mood  of  human 
beings  and  thus  furnishes  a  control  which  is  competent  to 
achieve  universal  good  will.  This,  in  the  opinion  of  the 
writer,  is  the  solution  of  the  problem  of  securing  adequate 
motivation  for  a  better  social  order,  which  is  so  much  de- 
bated at  the  present  time;  and  if  correct,  it  obviously 
places  a  heavy  responsibility  upon  the  Church. 

The  religious  revolution  of  the  last  two  generations, 
which  undermined  theological  Christianity,  however,  has 
left  the  Church  all  but  prostrate  and  powerless  before  the 
immense  social  task  which  now  confronts  it.  It  is  the 
object  of  this  book  to  help  show  how  the  breath  of  life 
may  again  be  breathed  into  its  nostrils,  and  how  the 
Church  can  again  become  that  "spiritual  power"  which  the 
world  needs  to  energize  and  harmonize  its  life.  To  be 
sure,  a  host  of  goodly  books  are  attempting,  at  this  mo- 
ment, to  do  the  very  same  thing.  The  author  would 

claim  only  the  merit  of  a  specific  point  of  view — that  of 

ii 


PREFACE 


social  science  x — in  adding  his  work  to  the  many  that  al- 
ready exist.  It  must  be,  however,  the  social  sciences  to 
which  the  world  must  look  more  and  more  for  guidance 
and  hence  to  which  religion  also  must  look.  The  signifi- 
cance of  the  social  sciences  for  religion,  he  believes,  is  not 
yet  appreciated,  and  his  task  is  to  attempt  to  disclose,  in 
part,  that  significance.  He  does  not  attempt,  accordingly, 
to  discuss  specifically  the  metaphysical  and  theological 
questions  which  are  usually  raised  whenever  religion  is 
mentioned.  He  attempts  to  discuss  the  reconstruction  of 
religion  only  from  a  sociological,  not  from  a  philosophical 
or  theological  viewpoint.  It  is  true  that  in  a  few  places 
in  the  book  rather  definite  theological  views  have  been 
expressed.  If  these  are  found  by  any  one  to  be  bad 
theology,  it  will  not  affect  the  argument  of  the  book.  For 
it  cannot  be  too  strongly  asserted  that  neither  the  vitality 
nor  the  social  power  of  religion  is  bound  up  with  the  fate 
of  any  specific  theological  doctrine.  This  truth,  to  which 
both  history  and  anthropology  abundantly  testify,  needs 
emphasis  especially  in  a  period  of  religious  reconstruction 
like  the  present.  Religion  must  be  freed  from  the  tram- 
mels of  theological  dogmatism  if  it  is  to  be  free  to  de- 
velop in  such  a  way  as  to  meet  the  requirements  of  mod- 
ern life. 

In  brief,  religion  as  a  practical  program  for  dealing 
with  the  world's  ills  must  be  based  upon  social  science — 
it  must  be  ever  guided  by  growing  social  knowledge.  On 
the  other  hand,  social  science  must  find  its  completion  in 
social  religion.  These  two  should  become  but  different 
aspects  of  one  fundamental  attitude  in  all  normal,  edu- 


1  The  term,  "social  science,"  as  used  in  this  book,  refers  not  only 
to  sociology,  luit  to  all  the  social  sciences  taken  collectively,  includ- 
ing Anthropology,  social  psychology,  social  ethics  and  social  phi- 
losophy, so  far  as  these  latter  are  based  upon  sci 


PKEFACE 

cated  minds.  The  writer  is  not  unaware  of  the  dangers 
and  difficulties  of  such  a  position.  In  the  present  con- 
dition of  both  the  scientific  and  the  religious  world  it  may 
seem  mere  rashness  to  affirm  that  completed  science  leads 
to  religion  and  that  the  conclusions  of  social  science,  more- 
over, are  practically  at  one  with  those  of  the  new  social 
Christianity.  Such  a  position  can  scarcely  be  expected  to 
please  the  conservatives  in  either  science  or  religion.  The 
writer  is  willing  to  accept  the  full  consequences  of  this 
position,  and,  in  the  words  of  a  great  humanitarian  states- 
man, "to  play  for  the  verdict  of  mankind."  He  would 
go  further  and  say  that  beyond  the  merely  descriptive 
tasks  of  science  are  its  tasks  of  evaluation,  and  that  upon 
the  social  sciences  especially  rests  the  responsibility  of 
guiding  ethical  and  religious  evaluations.  f  It  is  the  duty 
of  the  sociologist  to  aid  in  the  solution  of  the  religious 
problem.  In  a  fully  scientific  world  not  only  would  a 
scientific  man  who  had  knowledge  of  the  conditions  of 
human  living  be  expected  to  "preach"  (as,  indeed,  we 
now  expect  our  health  experts  to  do),  but  "preaching" 
without  scientific  knowledge  of  human  conditions  would 
not  be  tolerated. 

Some  misunderstanding  may  perhaps  be  avoided  if  we 
say  that  science — that  is,  accurate,  rationalized  knowledge 
— cannot,  of  course,  be  everything  in  religion.  Science, 
at  most,  can  furnish  but  one  of  the  bases  of  religion. 
Science  is  not  religion,  nor  can  it  become  a  substitute  for 
religion. ^  Religion  is  and  must  remain  essentially  in  the 
realm  of  faith;  it  necessarily  transcends  science,  but  it 
can  and  should  become  a  rational  faith,  energizing  men 
for  better  living  both  individually  and  socially,  and  seek- 
ing the  aid  of  science,  especially  the  social  sciences,  for 
the  building  of  a  better  human  world.  That,  again,  in 

brief,  is  the  practical  plea  of  this  book. 

xi 


PREFACE 


its.  of 


The  book  is  necessarily  a  book  of  value- judgments,  oi 
conclusions  rather  than  mere  facts.  The  facts  upon  which 
the  conclusions  are  based  will  be  found  scattered  through- 
out the  literature  of  the  social  sciences,  especially  of 
anthropology  and  sociology.  A  few  of  the  sources  have 
been  indicated  in  the  citations  in  the  foot-notes,  and  they 
are  more  fully  indicated  in  the  author's  other  published 
works,  of  which  this  volume  may  be  considered  an  elabo- 
ration on  the  ethical  and  religious  side.  It  is  hoped  also 
that  the  foot-notes  may  be  found  useful  by  those  who  wish 
guidance  for  further  reading.  The  central  argument  of 
the  book  will  be  found  stated  in  Chapters  II,  III,  V, 
and  XL  The  other  chapters  elaborate  or  apply  the  view- 
points developed  in  these  central  chapters. 

As  the  book  attempts  a  constructive  application  of  the 
principles  of  sociology  and  social  psychology  to  the  re- 
ligious problem  of  our  time,  the  theoretical  principles 
made  use  of  are  naturally  those  stated  in  the  author's 
Introduction  to  Social  Psychology,  and  also,  in  a  more 
brief  and  popular  form,  in  his  book,  The  Social  Problem: 
A  Reconstructive  Analysis.  The  general  philosophical 
background  may  best  be  found,  by  those  who  may  be  in- 
terested, in  ITobhouse's  Development  and  Purpose  and  his 
Morals  in  Evolution. 

No  citations  are  made  from  the  Bible,  not  because  the 
author  has  not  a  deep  appreciation  of  the  value  of  that 
book  for  the  religious  life,  but  because  he  would  not  pro- 
fess to  have  any  adequate  equipment  for  technical  New 
Testament  interpretation,  and  even  more  because  he  wishes 
his  work  regarded  solely  as  a  work  in  applied  social 
science.  Such  citations,  it  is  believed,  would  add  little,  if 
anything,  to  the  value  of  the  book.  The  reality  with  which 
the  sociologist  is  concerned  is  the  objective  Christian  move- 
ment; and  the  animating  principle  of  that  movement  is 

xii 


PREFACE 

the  Christian  tradition,  the  fountain  head  of  which  is  the 
Bible,  especially  the  Gospels.  The  great  value  of  the 
Bible  is,  therefore,  in  denning  and  fixing  the  Christian 
tradition1;  and  if  the  discussions  in  the  following  pages 
shall  move  any  to  examine  carefully  and  open-mindedly 
the  teachings  of  the  Gospels  in  connection  with  the  great 
problems  of  our  time,  then  the  author  will  be  more  than 
repaid  for  his  labors. 


So  many  friends  have  helped  in  the  preparation  of  this 
book  by  their  suggestions  and  criticisms  that  it  is  impos- 
sible for  me  to  acknowledge  my  indebtedness  to  all  of 
them.  I  feel,  however,  particularly  indebted  to  Professor 
George  A.  Coe  of  Union  Theological  Seminary,  whose  sug- 
gestions and  criticisms  have  been  invaluable  to  me.  Also 
I  am  indebted  to  Professor  Herbert  1ST.  Shenton  of  Co- 
lumbia University  who  has  read  large  portions  of  the 
manuscript.  These  kind  friends  should  not,  however,  be 
held  responsible  for  anything  in  the  book,  as  that  respon- 
sibility is  solely  my  own.  I  am  also  indebted  to  a  num- 
ber of  my  colleagues  at  the  University  of  Missouri,  espe- 
cially to  Professor  A.  F.  Kuhlman  of  my  department,  who 
has  helped  me  in  correcting  both  the  manuscript  and  the 
proofs. 

CHAELES  A.  ELLWOOD. 
UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOUBI, 
November  24,  1921. 

1  For  a  full  statement  of  the  author's  attitude  toward  the  Bible, 
see  pp.  145,  152  and  153. 


xiii 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAQ» 

1.     THE  RELIGIOUS  REVOLUTION  1 
.  II.     THE  SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  EELIGION  .  33 
.III.     THE     SOCIAL     SIGNIFICANCE     OF     CHRIS- 
TIANITY         70 

IV.     OUR  SEMI-PAGAN  CIVILIZATION  ...  93 
.V.     POSITIVE  CHRISTIANITY   THE  RELIGION  OF 

HUMANITY 119 

VI.     THE  ESSENTIALS  OF  A  SOCIAL  RELIGION   .  161 

VII.     RELIGION  AND  FAMILY  LIFE       .        .        .188 

VIII.     RELIGION  AND  ECONOMIC  LIFE  .        .        .  210 

IX.     RELIGION  AND  POLITICAL  LIFE  .        .        .  243 

X.     RELIGION  AND  SOCIAL  PLEASURE       .        .264 

.  XI.     THE  OPPORTUNITY  OF  THE  CHURCH         .  280 

APPENDIX  307 


THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 


"We  have  a  rich  harvest  of  science,  a  profusion  ol  ma- 
terial facilities,  a  vast  collection  of  the  ideas  and  products 
of  past  ages.  .  .  .  We  need  now  only  harmony,  order, 
union;  we  need  only  to  group  into  a  whole  these  powers 
and  gifts ;  the  task  before  us  is  to  discover  some  complete 
and  balanced  system  of  life ;  some  common  basis  of  belief ; 
some  object  for  the  imperishable  religious  instincts  and 
aspirations  of  mankind;  some  faith  to  bind  the  existence 
of  man  to  the  visible  universe  around  him ;  some  common 
social  bond  for  thought,  action  and  feeling." — Frederic 
Harrison,  The  Meaning  of  History,  p.  75. 

"I  believe  that  before  all  things  needful,  beyond  all  else 
is  true  religion.  This  only  can  give  wisdom,  happiness, 
and  goodness  to  men,  and  a  nobler  life  to  mankind.  Noth- 
ing but  this  can  sustain,  guide,  and  satisfy  all  lives,  con- 
trol all  characters,  and  unite  all  men." — Frederic  Har- 
rison, The  Creed  of  a  Layman,  p.  37. 


THE    RECONSTRUCTION    OF 
RELIGION 

A  SOCIOLOGICAL  VIEW 

CHAPTER  I 

THE  EELIGIOUS  BEVOLTJTION 

A  CRISIS  confronts  religion  in  the  modern  world.  A 
New  Reformation  is  necessary  within  the  Christian 
Church,  if  it  is  to  survive,  besides  which  the  Protestant 
Reformation  will  seem  insignificant.1  Like  all  our  other 
institutions,  religion  is  in  revolution.  Either  some  new 
form  of  Christianity  2  or  sheer  atheism  will  soon  become 
dominant  in  the  more  advanced  nations,  with  agnostic 
scientific  positivism  as  a  third  possibility.  A  fourth  pos- 
sibility, of  course,  is  that  our  whole  civilization  may  re- 
vert to  a  lower  level,  and  that  older  and  cruder  forms  of 
religion  may  again  appear  and  become  common.  But  this 
could  scarcely  occur  until  the  foundations  of  the  higher 
forms  of  religion  had  become  sapped;  while  for  psycho- 

1  See  Fitch,  Can  the  Church  Survive  in  the  Changing  Order  f,  es- 
pecially pp.  69-79. 

a  We  shall  use  this  term,  unless  qualified,  to  mean  the  religion 
of  Jesus — surely  its  proper  sense.  When  educated  people  discuss 
the  merits  of  Buddhism,  they  usually  mean  the  religion  of  Gautama 
Buddha,  not  the  hodge-podge  which  goes  by  that  name  in  various 
lands.  So  in  a  scientific  discussion  of  religion,  it  is  only  fair  to 
let  Christianity  be  the  name  for  the  religion  of  Jesus  rather  than 
the  clutter  of  historical  beliefs  which  have  at  one  time  or  another 
assumed  that  name. 

1 


2         THE  KECOIsTSTKUCTIOST  OF  KELIGION 

logical  reasons  (which  we  shall  later  discuss)  any  wide- 
spread dissemination  and  popular  acceptance  of  an  ag- 
nostic positivism  is  improbable.  Practically,  therefore, 
the  alternatives  before  the  modern  world  in  a  religious 
way  would  seem  to  be  either  radical  irreligion  or  some 
more  socialized  and  rationalized  form  of  the  religion  of 
Jesus  than  has  yet  been  attained.  The  final  outcome  of 
the  religious  revolution  through  which  we  are  passing1 
is  not  yet  discernible;  but  its  possibilities  are,  and  it  is 
time  for  thoughtful  men  to  choose  among  these  possibili- 
ties while  they  are  still  j_rea to  shape  the  future  of  religion. 
The  crisis  in  tEe  religious  world  has  been  brought  about 
by  the  failure  of  existing  religion  to  adapt  itself  to  the 
two  outstanding  facts  in  our  civilization — science  and 
democracy.  The  church  must  learn  to  adapF~itself  to 
th"65e-two  mighty  forces  which  are  building  our  civiliza- 
tion. Of  these  two,  soiree  is  the  more  outstanding  and 
dominant.  It  is  the  foundation  of  our  views  of  life  and 
of  the  universe,  as  well  as  of  our  material  progress,  and 
so  it  has  largely  created  the  conditions  which  have  favored 
the  rise  of  modern  democracy.  Yet  the  maladjustment  of 
religion  with  science  remains  pronounced.  Often  are  we 
assured  by  some  one  in  the  name  of  science  that  science 
can  find  nothing  in  religion  except  superstition,  error,  or 
"the  will-to-power"  of  some  privileged  class;  while,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  representatives  of  religion  not  infre- 

1  Says  Professor  E.  G.  Conklin  (The  Direction  of  Human  Evolution, 
p.  244)  :  "To-day  we  are  in  the  midst  of  a  religious  revolution,  which 
is  going  on  so  quietly  that  many  do  not  notice  it,  although  it  is  a 
greater  and  more  fundamental  revolution  than  any  since  the  early 
years  of  the  Christian  era."  And,  he  asks:  "Can  Christianity  become 
the  religion  of  reason  and  science  as  well  as  of  emotion  and  faith,  and 
be  made  the  power  for  individual  and  social  progress  which  its  founder 
intended?"  The  reader  will  note  that  the  phrase  "religious  revolu- 
tion" is  used  in  this  book  like  the  phrase  "industrial  revolution,"  not 
to  indicate  a  violent  change,  but  a  great  transformation.  The 
Protestant  Reformation  was  a  religious  revolution  in  this  sense. 


THE  KELIGIOUS  REVOLUTION  3 

quently  proclaim  it  outside  of  the  field  of  science  and  re- 
sent its  scientific  evaluation  as  a  species  of  "sacrilege." 
Both  attitudes  have  made  difficult  the  attainment  of  ra- 
tional religion;  that' is,  a  religion  in  accord  with  the  estab- 
lished facts  of  human  experience.1 

But  if  religion  is  a  vital  element  in  civilization  (as  we 
hope  to  show),  then  the  attainment  of  a  rational,  ethical 
religion  is  one  of  the  greatest  and  most  fundamental  of 
our  social  needs,  and  nothing  could  he  more  short-sighted 
and  stupid  than  an  irrational  attitude  toward  religion, 
whether  on  the  part  of  its  defenders  or  of  its  critics.  In 
the  reconstruction  of  our  civilization  which  we  now  face, 
it  is  time  that  scientific  thinkers  and  the  representatives 
of  religion  join  hands  in  seeking  to  promote  the  develop- 
ment of  rational  religion  as  the  world's  supreme  need. 

For  we  shall  not  be  able  to  reconstruct  our  civilization 
without  the  reconstruction  of  religion ;  and  the  first  thing 
to  be  aimed  at  in  the  reconstruction  of  religion  is  to  make 
it  rational.2  Science,  as  we  have  noted,  is  the  outstand- 
ing and  dominating  fact  in  modern  civilization.  A  re- 
ligion which  is  "adapted  to  the  requirements  of  modern 
life"  must  first  of  all  be  adjusted  to  modern  science.  A 
religion  which  is  not  in  harmony  with  modern  science  can- 
not possibly  remain  the  religion  of  the  thinking  class  of 
the  future.  The  hope  for  religion,  as  for  our  social  life 
generally,  must  lie  in  foil  owing,  reason,  not  in  thwarting  it. 

1  Almost  equally  regrettable,  because  harmful  to  the  true  interests 
of  religion,  is  the  attitude  of  those  religious  people  who  resent  all 
criticism  of  religious  beliefs  and  institutions  by  scientific  men,  even 
when  made  with  constructive  intent.  Constructive  criticism  should 
ahvays  be  welcome,  for  it  is  the  normal  method  by  which  institutions 
grow.  See  my  Introduction  to  Social  Psychology,  p.  149f. 

8  For  a  critical  discussion  of  all  that  is  implied  in  this  word  and 
for  the  presuppositions  of  the  argument  of  this  book,  the  reader  can- 
not do  better  than  to  consult  Professor  Hobhouse's  recent  work,  The 
Rational  Good,  especially  Chapters  I  and  III. 


4         THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

./  This  may  be  evident,  but  there  are  difficulties  in  the 
•way.  Strangely  enough,  the  defenders  as  well  as  the 
critics  of  religion  have  often  held  that  to  make  it  rational 
would  be  to  destroy  it.  Ever  since  Immanuel  Kant  wrote 
his  treatise  on  Religion  Within  the  Limits  of  Mere 
Reason,  there  has  been  continual  controversy  between  those 
whom  we  may  call  the  rationalists  in  religion  and  those 
who  have  stood  for  some  form  of  irrationalism,  whether 
traditionalism,  mysticism,  or  some  other.1  Without  deny- 
ing that  there  are  necessary  elements  of  tradition  and  mys- 
tery in  all  religion  (even  science  has  these),  it  would  seem 
that  this  conflict  is  no^  longer  unres'oTvable.  Scarcely  any 
one  would  be  willing  to  acknowledge  that  his  particular  re- 
ligious faith  is  unreasonable.  Every  one  acknowledges,  in 
one  way  or  another,  the  supremacy  of  the  human  reason  as 
the  ultimate  means  of  testing  beliefs  and  actions.2  The 
whole  world  has  become  rationalistic  in  the  sense  that  it 
acknowledges  that  the  validity  of  everything  must  ulti- 
mately be  tested  through  rational  processes ; 8  and  religion 

1The  solution  o^/the  problem  of  the  relations  of  religion  and 
science  proposed  in  this  book  is,  in  a  sense,  the  opposite  of  that 
proposed  by  Kant.  Kant  claimed  that  the  problems  of  religion  could 
not  be  approached  through  science  or  ordinary  rational  knowledge, 
but  that  religious  beliefs  were  necessary,  rational,  postulates  of  the 
moral  life.  Thus  he  created  a  dualism  in  intelligence. 

s  Even  those  persons,  one  may  add,  who  use  reason  to  refute  reason 
or  to  show  its  limitations.  For  a  statement  of  various  anti-intellectual 
attitudes  toward  religion,  see  Hocking,  The  Meaning  of  God  in  Human 
Experience,  Chap.  4.  It  may  be  well  to  state  at  the  outset  that  no 
intellectualistic  theory  of  religion  is  proposed  in  this  book.  AH  that 
is  proposed  is  to  bring  religion  within  the  purview  of  science. 

•  This  statement  is  true  only  when  we  critically  judge  the  implica- 
tions of  modern  irrationalism.  For  a  briof  exposition  of  irrationaliam 
in  modern  science  itself,  see  Hobhousp,  The  Rational  Good,  Chap.  I. 
Much  of  the  prevalent  irrationallsm  is  due  to  misunderstanding  the 
term  "reapon."  "Much  of  the  prejudice  ngninst  reason,"  says  Pro- 
fessor Hobhouse,  "is  due  to  a  misconception  for  which  its  friends  are 
as  much  responsible  as  its  enemies.  By  l>oth  nlike  reason  is  often 
taken  as  a  thing  apart.  On  the  side  of  knowledge,  it  is  divorced  from 
experience,  on  the  side  of  conduct  frqm  feeling.  In  both  cases  the 


THE  KELIGIOUS  REVOLUTION  5 

can  scarcely  hope  that  the  processes  which  men  make  use 
of  in  judging  other  affairs  of  life  will  not  be  applied  to 
it  also.  A  religion  which  will  meet  the  needs  of  modern 
life  must  accordingly  be  not  merely  remotely  in  some  pos- 
sible harmony  with  science,  but  it  must  be  directly  indi- 
cated by  science  as  a  necessity  for  the  development  of  "a 
humanity  adjusted  to  the  requirements  of  its  existence." 
It  may  seem  sheer  audacity  to  declare  that  rational  re- 
ligion is  not  merely  reconcilable  with  science,  but  that 
developed  and  completed  science  is  a  foundation  for  ra- 
tional religion.  Here,  of  course,  it  is  necessary  to  guard 
oneself  against  being  misunderstood.  Fragmentary 
science,  a  science  which  sees  the  universe  merely  in  bits, 
and  which  fails  to  recognize  the  social  and  spiritual  life 
of  man  as  subject-matter  for  its  understanding,  will  see 
nothing  in  religion.  Of  such  science  there  is  an  abun- 
dance in  the  world  at  the  present  time;  but  it  would  be 
as  unfair  to  judge  science  by  it  as  it  would  be  to  judge 
democracy  by  the  pitiful  examples  of  it  also  to  be  found 
.  all  too  frequently  in  the  modern  world.  A  science  which 
envisages  the  total  of  reality,  which  aims  at  accurate 
knowledge  of  everything  which  exists,  including  the  total 
life  of  man,  will  surely  neither  leave  religion  out  of  ac- 
count nor  be  found  antagonistic  to  rational  religion.  When 
we  assert  that  science  logically  leads  to,  and  will  become 
a  support  of,  religion,  we  only  mean,  therefore,  that  ac- 
curate knowledge  of  the  universe  and  of  the  total  life  of 
man  will  do  this.  The  more  we  know  of  the  universe 
and  of  man,  the  more  we  shall  know  of  God. 

dirorce  is  fatal  to  a  true  understanding"  (p.  19).  "The  conception 
of  reason,"  he  says  later,  "is  not  one  of  a  faculty  prior  to  and  apart 
from  experience  ...  It  is  the  conception  rather  of  a  principle 
oper&tire  within  experience  the  work  of  which  is  always  partial  and 
incomplete,  .  .  .  the  process  by  which  understanding  deepens,  error 
is  repeatedly  eliminated,  and  truth  constantly  enlarged."  (pp.  73-75) 


6         THE  KECONSTEUCTION  OF  EELIGION 

But  some  one  may  say  that  science  is  only  a  method; 
that  it  is  not  coextensive  with  the  term  "accurate  knowl- 
edge" ;  and  furthermore,  that  the  accurate  knowledge 
which  we  have  or  can  get  concerns  such  a  small  part  of 
the  universe  or  of  human  life  that  it  cannot  possibly  have 
anything  to  do  with  religion ; *  and  that  we  must  be  con- 
tent, therefore,  to  keep  our  science  in  one  compartment  of 
our  mind  and  our  religion  in  another.  Science  and  re- 
ligion have  nothing  to  do  with  each  other  and  should 
leave  each  other  alone.  The  reply  is  that  science  is  not 
merely  a  method;  that  it  aims  at  accurate  knowledge  of 
everything  which  exists,  including  religion  itself;  and 
that  while  its  work  is  far  from  complete,  its  trend,  its 
general  direction,  is  such  that  we  are  able  to  see,  in  part 
at  least,  which  way  we  must  go  if  we  follow  its  lead. 
Science,  indeed,  is  itself  nothing  but  the  rationalizing 
activity  of  the  human  mind  brought  to  bear  upon  the 
tangible  problems  of  life.^(  It  may,  and  does,  regard  its 
work  as  incomplete,  wherever  the  evidence  needed  for  a 
judgment  upon  those  problems  is  incomplete.  Thus  it 
hands  over  to  philosophy  the  work  of  formulating  rational 
inferences  regarding  ultimate  problems.  But  modern 
philosophy  aims  more  and  more  to  become  scientific;  and 
religion,  if  it  is  to  survive  in  a  scientific  and  rationaliz- 
ing world,  must  move  along  the  same  path.  As  a  recent 
writer  has  well  said:  "If  religion  is  nothing  but  the  sub- 

1  The  arbitrary  limitations  put  upon  science  both  by  its  friends  and 
by  its  critics  at  times,  are  as  absurd  as  those  put  upon  religion.  Thus 
it  is  said  that  science  is  merely  the  method  of  measurement,  or  the 
tracing  of  casual  mechanistic  sequences;  that  it  cannot  take  teleology 
into  account,  even  though  human  purposes  are  a  part  of  human 
experience,  etc.  The  contrary  assumption  of  this  book  is  that  the 
development  of  science  can  be  limited  only  by  human  experience;  that 
science  is  "a  movement  towards  the  knowledge  of  reality";  and  that 
consequently  everything  within  human  experience  may  be  brought  to 
its  tests.  See  Hobhouse,  Development  and  Purpose,  especially  Part  II, 
Chap.  II. 


THE  EELIGIOUS  KEVOLUTION  7 

mission  to  mystery,  it  is  doomed.  If  it  is  the  trembling 
register  of  fear,  transmuted  maybe  into  softened  keys  but 
always  fear, — if  this  is  all  there  is  in  life  that  is  religious, 
it  is  not  enough  to  satisfy  the  rational  intelligence.  Yet 
that  is  what  a  theology  based  upon  the  irrational  back- 
ground of  life  demands.  In  short,  there  must  be  religion 
of  the  head  as  well  as  of  the  heart,  if  the  head  is  getting 
control  of  the  situation — or  else  religion  will  share  the 
fate  of  the  emotions  in  which  it  has  been  enthroned.  It 
will  be  disbarred  from  directing  the  life  of  intelligence, 
both  individual  and  social."  * 

Another  misunderstanding  must  here  be  guarded 
against;  and  that  is  that  a  rational  religion  will  be  a 
weakened,  emasculated  religion  taking  no  account  of 
man's  impulses  and  emotions,  but  as  arid  and  lifeless  as 
the  so-called  "rationalism"  of  the  eighteenth  century.  In- 
deed, a  small  group  of  people  still  exist  who  call  them- 
selves "rationalists"  who  display  as  their  chief  justifica- 
tion for  this  self-bestowed  appellation  a  negative  attitude 
towards  all  religion.2  Whether  or  not  such  persons  are 
entitled  to  call  themselves  "rationalists"  in  any  sense,  it 
is  evident  that  a  religion  adapted  to  the  needs  of  human 
life  cannot  be  a  weak,  colorless,  largely  negative  intel- 
lectual belief,  but  it  must  enlist  the  whole  nature  of  man. 
It  must  appeal  to  his  impulses  and  emotions  as  well  as 
to  his  most  highly  developed  reason.  A  rational  religion 
is  one  which  can  meet  all  of  these  tests.  That,  indeed,  is 
the  very  mark  and  criterion  of  its  rationality,  that  it  is 
in  harmony  with  the  whole  life  of  man;  only  in  that  life 
of  man  it  finds  the  developed  reason  to  be  the  final  organ 

1  Shotwell,  The  Religious  Revolution  of  Today,  p.  154. 

'One  writer  (Benn,  The  History  of  Rationalism)  has  even  gone  BO 
far  as  to  define  rationalism  as  "the  mental  habit  of  using  reason  for 
the  destruction  of  religious  beliefs." 


8         THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

of  adaptation,  the  highest  and  hence  the  ultimate  guide.1 
It  would  be  an  irrational  science  which  would  fail  to  take 
account  of  the  whole  nature  of  man,  and  which  considered 
him  merely  as  an  abstract  intellectual  creature  motivated 
and  controlled  by  "pure  reason" ;  so,  too,  it  would  be  an 
equally  irrational  religion  which  would  regard  man  as  a 
creature  of  pure  reason,  or  attempt  so  to  appeal  to  him. 
Even  Kant  did  not  mean  that  man  is  a  thing  of  pure 
reason.2  What  he  meant  rather  was  that  religion  so  far 
as  it  was  true  and  useful,  like  everything  else  true  and 
useful,  could  be  stated  in  rational  terms;  that  is,  that  it 
could  be  rationalized,  even  though  from  its  very  nature 
it  comprehended,  in  one  sense,  the  whole  life  of  man. 
Rational  religion  will  still  have  its  appeal  to  the  emo- 
tions and  to  the  impulses,  as  much  as  rational  patriotism, 
or  rational  morality.  It  is  the  function  of  the  reason, 
as  the  universal  relating  activity  of  mind,  to  harmonize 
everything  in  life,  assigning  to  each  factor  its  proper 
value  in  the  whole  process.3  It  is  because  of  this,  in- 
deed, that  we  trust  the  rationalizing  mechanism  in  the 
human  mind  to  be  the  final  adaptive  organ  in  the  process 

1  Says  Professor  Fitch  (op.  cit.  p.  36):  "Rationalism  means 
dependence  upon  one  of  man's  faculties  alone,  the  reasoning  one"; 
and  he  rightly  adds,  "It  is  as  partial  and  dangerous  as  dependence 
upon  feeling  alone."  This,  however,  was  eighteenth  century  ration- 
alism; but  neo-rationalism  would  make  "experience  as  a  whole  the 
guide,"  only  insisting  that  this  should  mean  in  final  development, 
organized  and  verified  experience — in  other  words,  approaching  and 
settling  every  question  in  a  scientific  attitude  of  mind.  "To  the  true 
rationalism,"  says  Professor  Hobhouse  (Mind  in  Evolution],  "tho 
supreme  reason  is  no  dry  pedant  living  apart  and  blighting  the  free 
spontaneous  life  of  impulse,  but  the  animating  spirit  that  interpene- 
trates experience  and  gives  to  its  otherwise  scattered  fragments  new 
and  harmonious  meaning." 

•  Kant'g  famous  definition  of  religion,  "The  perception  of  all  of  our 
duties  as  divine  command-;,"  implies,  of  course,  that  in  both  man  and 
religion  there  is  somethi>'X  other  than  the  rational  element. 

•Compare  Hobhous^' .,  ntatement  (The  Rational  Good,  p.  75), 
"Reason  is  the  principle  of  interconnection  persistently  applied." 


THE  KELIGIOUS  KEVOLUTIOtf  9 

of  human  living.  \Ye  need  to  recognize  fully,  the  worth 
of  other  elements  in  human  nature,  but  we  must  realize 
that  in  the  complex  world  in  which  we  live  these  other 
elements  cannot  furnish  the  ultimate  test  of  our  values. 
It  is  reason  which  must  lead  us  upward  and  on  in  our 
struggle  to  get  a  human  life  more  completely  adapted  to 
the  complex  requirements  of  its  existence.  But  it  is  not 
the  reason  of  the  individual  by  itself  which  we  thus  trust 
to  lead  us  on  to  higher  and  better  things.  It  is  rather 
that  developing  reason  in  the  whole  life  of  society  which 
we  call  "science."  The  individual  reason,  we  all  see,  is 
narrow  and  limited ;  but  the  possibilities  of  handing  down 
and  accumulating  the  tested  product  of  the  rational  activi- 
ties of  many  individual  minds,  that  is,  accurate  knowl- 
edge, from  generation  to  generation  are  unlimited;  and 
thus  reason  is  bound  to  perfect  itself  in  the  race,1  if  not 
in  the  individual,  provided  of  course  that  some  great 
calamity  does  not  interrupt  its  work.  The  modern  faith 
in  science  is  thus  itself  a  faith  in  the  rational  and  rests 
upon  a  secure  foundation  of  knowledge. 

1  Compare  Spaulding,  The  New  Rationalism;  also  Hobhouse,  The 
Rational  Good,  Chapter  III,  and  Hobhouse,  Development  and  Purpose, 
p.  249.  There  is  little  or  no  ground  for  Kidd  (Social  Evolution] 
and  other  irrationalists  limiting  the  function  of  reason  to  individual 
adjustments  on  the  basis  of  self-interest,  and  finding  all  altruistic 
actions  to  be  due  to  a  supra-rational  force.  On  the  contrary,  there 
are  good  psychological  grounds  for  saying  that  when  rational  pro- 
cesses thus  function  they  are  imperfect  or  perverted  by  unsocial  habits 
or  impulses  (see  my  Sociology  in  Its  Psychological  Aspects,  pp.  120 
and  274 ) .  The  accumulated  effects  of  experience  in  social  traditions 
and  institutions,  moreover,  must  be  regarded  as  the  work  of  reason; 
e.  g.,  the  development  of  the  scientific  tradition  in  society.  Skepticism 
in  regard  to  the  work  of  reason  and  science,  as  of  everything  else,  is 
of  course  possible.  The  reader  will  easily  find  abundant  illustrations 
of  the  distrust  of  reason  and  science  in  modern  literature  and 
philosophy,  but  it  may  be  pointed  out  that  such  distrust  always  ends, 
if  not  in  mysticism,  then  in  pessimism  or  reactionary  traditionalism. 
No  better  refutation  of  such  irrationalism  will  be  found  than  that  in 
Hobhouse's  Development  and  Purpose,  and,  more  briefly,  in  his  recent 
work,  The  Rational  Good,  Chapters  I,  III  and  VIII. 


:oisr 

;  in  re- 


10       THE  BECONSTKUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

It  may  be  objected  that  there  is  another  element 
ligion  which  gives  us  a  surer  foundation  of  certainty  than 
any  rationalizing  process  either  in  the  individual  or  in 
the  race  can  do;  and  that  is  the  element  of  "inspiration," 
or  "intuition,"  as  modern  philosophers  prefer  to  call  it.1 
Even  if  there  is  such  an  element,  however,  it  is  bound 
to  work  with  and  submit  to  the  reason.  This  is  shown 
by  the  fact  that  the  reason  has  often  undermined  the  re- 
ligious and  moral  "intuitions,"  or  "inspirations,"  of  other 
ages.  ISFot  that  these  intuitions  or  inspirations  did  not 
have  a  value  for  the  particular  time  and  occasion  when 
they  were  delivered,  but  like  everything  else  in  life  they 
were  bound  to  submit  to  the  criticism  of  the  reason,  and 
as  a  consequence  many  in  time  have  been  rejected.  Those 
that  we  still  accept  we  accept  only  because  thus  far  they 
have  been  found  to  be  rational  when  tested  by  critical 
reasoning.  There  are  axioms  and  postulates  in  religion 
and  morality,  in  other  words,  just  as  in  science;  but 
like  those  of  science  they  must  submit  to  rational  tests  if 
they  are  to  remain  accepted.2  The  critical  method  of 
science  does  not  leave  unexamined  even  its  own  postulates, 
much  less  can  it  leave  those  of  morality  and  religion.  In 
the  one  case,  as  in  the  other,  we  may  rest  assured  that 
"the  intuitions  of  common  sense,"  however,  will  in  the 
long  run  be  seldom  overthrown  when  they  are  well 
grounded  in  total  human  experience.  The  fundamentals 
of  religion,  like  the  fundamentals  of  life  itself,  are  not 

1  The  most  recent  expression  of  this  attitude  is  found  in  Borgson's 
works.  A  brief  presentation  of  his  point  of  view  will  be  found  in  his 
Introduction  to  Metaphysics,  translated  by  T.  E.  Hulme.  While 
intuition  is  now  generally  recognized  by  psychologists  as  having  a 
certain  validity,  there  is  no  warrant  in  psychology  for  placing  it  above 
critical  reasoning  and  scientific  method.  Compare  Coe,  The  Psychology 
of  Religion,  p.  9. 

'On  the  place  of  intuitions  and  postulates  within  the  rational,  see 
Hobhouse,  The  Rational  Good,  pp.  64-7± 


THE  EELIGIOUS  KE VOLUTION  11 

•  going  to  be  thrown  out  of  the  window  by  science  in  the 
name  of  reason,  but  rather  will  be  tested  by  reason.  If 
anything  is  finally  rejected  it  will  be  because,  being  tested, 
it  is  found  wanting.  ,  Thus  a  rational  religion  which  shall 
be  far  stronger  in  its  hold  upon  human  belief  in  the 
social  future,  because  resting  upon  adequate  and  secure 
foundations,  is  clearly  possible. 

Nevertheless,  the  struggle  to  secure  a  rational  religion 
in  the  modern  world  has  been  accompanied  by  the  most 
profound  social  disturbances.  Men's  beliefs,  even  in  the 
things  which  were  accepted  as  axiomatic  by  the  past,  have 
been  undermined.  The  whole  structure  of  values  and 
standards  by  which  civilization  has  been  sustained  from 
the  stone  age  to  the  present  has  seemed  at  times  about  to 
j  crumble  and  give  way.  Our  whole  modern  life  has  been 
largely  during  the  last  two  decades  a  scene  of  confused 
and  conflicting  values,  ideals,  and  standards.1  Now  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  the  main  element  disturbing  the 
habits,  standards,  and  beliefs  of  the  past  in  the  modern 
world  has  been  science.  The  new  knowledge  which  it  has 
brought  has  often  been  difficult  to  assimilate  with  the  old 
beliefs  and  standards.  It  has  not  only  infinitely  enlarged 
the  world  in  which  man  lives,  extending  it  even  beyond 
the  limits  of  his  past  imagination,  but  has  even  trans- 
formed the  physical  environment  in  which  he  lives.  This 
transformation  of  the  environment,  or  man's  conquest  and 
control  over  nature,  has  made  his  social  life  much  more 
complex.2  By  furnishing  a  much  larger  food  supply,  it 
has  multiplied  human  populations  many  fold,  and  so  mul- 
tiplied and  intensified  social  contacts  between  individuals. 
By  inventing  new  means  of  controlling  and  harnessing 

1  See  The  Social  Problem,  Revised  Edition,  1919,  Chapter  I. 

2  Ibid.,  pp.  77-85. 


12       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

physical  energies,  it  has  made  the  world  in  which  the 
civilized  individual  lives  a  world  of  machines.  The  in- 
vention of  machines,  moreover,  has  produced  what  is 
known  as  "great  industry,"  and  great  industry  demands 
such  organization  that  the  individual  himself  seems  to  be 
nothing  but  part  of  a  vaster  machine.  New  methods  of 
transportation  and  of  intercommunication  made  possible 
by  these  new  mechanical  inventions  have  brought  about 
at  the  same  time  greater  interdependence,  contact,  and 
intermingling  of  all  the  peoples  of  the  world.  The  whole 
planet  is  now  no  larger  than  a  good  sized  island  was  at 
the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Race  contacts 
and  international  contacts  have  vastly  multiplied.  Cul- 
tures *  and  civilizations  so  blend  and  overlap  that  it  is 
beginning  to  become  evident  that  one  relatively  uniform 
culture  must  finally  3ominate  the  world. 

In  the  religious  world  these  changes  in  science,  in  in- 
dustry, and  in  the  general  social  environment  have  pro- 
duced what  has  been  aptly  termed  "the  religious  revolu- 
tion." Not  only  have  old  theological  beliefs  crumbled, 
but  the  theological  way  of  looking  at  life  and  at  things 
generally  is  seen  to  be  of  much  less  importance  than  for- 
mer generations  supposed.  The  entire  edifice  of  specu- 
lative theology  has,  indeed,  been  undermined,  and  by 
many  scientific  thinkers  it  is  assigned  to  the  same  rank 
as  the  mythologies  of  primitive  and  barbarous  peoples. 
Because  of  the  identification,  moreover,  in  the  popular" 
mind  of  religion  with  theological  beliefs,  religion  itself 
as  a  "control"  over  life  has  greatly  suffered.  Not  only 
have  religious  beliefs  and  values  changed,  but  they  have 
been  immensely  weakened.  Says  an  eminent  English 

1  The  word  "culture"  is  used  in  this  book,  as  in  sociology  and 
anthropology  generally,  moaning  civilization  in  the  widest  sense.  In 
this  sense  all  human  societies,  even  savages,  possess  some  degree  of 
culture.  For  the  stages  of  culture,  see  Chapter  III. 


THE  RELIGIOUS  REVOLUTION"  13 

social  and  philosophical  thinker:1  "The  influence  of  the 
Christian  religion  on  daily  life  has  decayed  very  rapidly 
throughout  Europe  during  the  last  hundred  years.  Not 
only  has  the  proportion  of  nominal  believers  declined,  but 
even  among  those  who  believe  the  intensity  of  belief  is 
enormously  diminished." 

The  truth  of  this  statement,  even  though  it  is  made  by 
one  avowedly  hostile  to  Christianity,  can  scarcely  be 
doubted  by  any  one  who  knows  fully  the  facts.2  It  would 
not  be  disturbing,  however,  if  in  the  place  of  the  tradi- 
tional Christianity  which  has  existed  in  Europe  during 
the  last  hundred  years  some  socially  higher  form  of  re- 
ligion was  manifestly  emerging  and  becoming  dominant; 
but  instead  we  find  manifest  everywhere,  as  we  shall  see, 
a  recrudescence  of  the  ideas,  values  and  standards  of  the 
religions  which  preceded  Christianity  in  Europe,  even  in 
their  cruder  and  more  brutal  forms.8 

1  Bertrand  Russell,  Principles  of  Social  Reconstruction,  p.  168. 

1  In  his  well  known  Investigation  on  The  Belief  in  God  and  Immor- 
tality, Professor  J.  H.  Leuba  concludes  from  a  study  of  the  opinions 
of  nearly  one  thousand  students  in  the  leading  American  college! 
that  "Christianity,  as  a  system  of  belief,  has  utterly  broken  down, 
and  nothing  definite,  adequate  and  convincing  has  taken  ita  place. 
Their  beliefs,  when  they  have  any,  are  superficial  and  amateurish  in 
the  extreme."  This  confusion  and  uncertainty  in  religious  beliefs 
is,  of  course,  to  be  expected  in  an  age  of  revolutionary  religious 
changes.  Many  critics  of  Christianity  would  interpret  such  phe- 
nomena as  signs  of  its  passing.  Thus  Edward  Carpenter  in  Pagan 
aud  Christian  Creeds  (p.  257)  says:  "That  Christianity  can  continue 
to  hold  the  field  of  religion  is  neither  probable  nor  desirable  .  .  . 
The  hour  of  its  Exodus  has  come."  Such  critics  usually  mean  by 
"Christianity"  some  form  or  forms  of  religion  taught  by  the  Christian 
Church  rather  than  "the  religion  of  Jesus,"  and  usually  have  little 
or  no  idea  of  the  social  evolutionary  significance  of  the  latter  as  set 
forth  in  Chapter  III. 

•  See  Chapter  IV.  The  recrudescence  of  pagan  ethical  and  religious 
attitudes,  discussed  more  fully  as  survivals  in  our  civilization  in 
Chapter  IV,  is  pointed  to  here  merely  as  evidence  of  the  revolutionary 
changes  which  our  ethics  and  religion  are  now  undergoing — confusion 
and  reversion  to  earlier  forms  always  being  characteristic  of  revo- 
lutionary periods. 


14       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

The  confusion,  doubt,  and  uncertainty  which  pervade 
our  world  of  religious  beliefs  and  values  is  not,  then,  an 
isolated  phenomenon.  It  is  only  one  manifestation  of 
the  general  confusion  which  exists  in  the  whole  modern 
world  as  regards  the  values  and  standards  of  human  liv- 
ing. In  the  new  and  complex  social  world  in  which  we 
live  the  values  and  standards  of  simpler  ages  are  often 
found  totally  unadapted  to  present  conditions,  and  be- 
cause so  many  have  been  found  wanting,  doubt  and  un- 
certainty have  spread  to  all.  Even  the  most  fundamental 
beliefs,  values,  and  standards  by  which  men  hitherto  have 
lived  have  come  to  be  questioned.1  All  the  institutions 
of  the  modern  world  may  be  said  to  be  at  the  present  time 
in  the  melting  pot,  being  tested  in  the  crucible  of  fiery 
criticism. 

Such  confusion  as  we  are  now  living  in  is  to  be  ex- 
pected in  all  ages  of  transition ;  for  in  the  transition  from 
one  way  of  thinking  to  another,  from  one  form  of  insti- 
tution to  another,  there  is  always  a  period  of  confusion 
and  uncertainty.2  ~No  individual,  to  say  nothing  of  a 
whole  civilization,  ever  radically  changes  his  habits  with- 
out such  a  period.  The  danger  in  all  such  cases,  how- 
ever, is  that  confusion  and  uncertainty  may  last  too  long, 

'Says  Professor  Hudson  (The  Truths  We  Live  By,  p.  21)  :  "The 
standards  of  the  home,  even  the  criteria  for  the  rearing  of  children, 
have  broken  down.  The  leisure  occupations  of  youth,  always  symp- 
tomatic of  any  age,  are  not  only  unguidedly  and  frankly  hedonistic, 
but  across  the  borders  of  what  was  once  considered  decorous;  not 
because  of  a  new  and  liberalizing  moral  standard,  as  is  sometimes 
pretended ;  but  because  of  the  lack  of  any.  The  popularity  of  certain 
recent  dances,  formerly  forbidden  even  in  the  "red-light"  districts, 
is  typical.  So  is  much  of  our  periodical  reading  matter  and  any 
number  of  'movie'  plays,  over  the  edge  of  the  decadently  erotic." 
However,  after  a  careful  discussion  of  the  present  conflict  and  con- 
fusion of  ideals,  Professor  Hudson  rightly  concludes:  "The  contra- 
dictions of  our  own  day  may  mean  .  .  .  the  advance  toward  a  new 
moral  order."  See  my  book,  The  Social  Problem,  pp.  29-43  and  73-86. 

3  See  Introduction  to  Social  Psychology,  pp.  163-1C4. 


THE  KELIGIOUS  KEVOLUTIOJST  15 

and  that  instead  of  new  and  higher  adjustments  being 
made  under  the  guidance  of  reason,  human  nature  may 
fall  back  upon  primitive  and  irrational  adjustments.  For 
adjustment  upon  the  plane  of  animal  impulse  or  rever- 
sion to  old  habits  is  always  easier  than  adjustment  upon 
a  new  and  higher  rational  plane.  To  think  out  the  prob- 
lems of  life  requires  effort,  and  when  ennui  overtakes  the 
popular  mind  in  such  periods  of  confusion,  it  is  easier 
to  fall  back  upon  mere  impulse  or  mere  tradition.  Thus 
I  serious  reversions  may  occur  in  the  development  of  our 
general  social  life; *  and  such  reversions  are  an  ever 
present  danger  in  our  religious  and  moral  life  as  well  as 
in  other  phases  of  our  social  life. 

There  is,  however,  no  cause  for  despair  in  all  this  con- 
fusion, doubt  and  uncertainty  regarding  religious  and 
other  social  values,  provided  we  can  get  light  upon  the 
reconstruction  in  religion  and  in  our  social  life  generally 
which  is  needed  to  meet  the  requirements  of  modern  life. 
A  period  of  revolution  and  change  gives  opportunity  for 
advance  not  less  than  retrogression.  Whether  we  shall 
have  advance  or  retrogression  depends  upon  the  ra- 
tional guidance  which  can  be  given  to  social  movements 
at  such  a  time.  It  is  foolish  to  expect  that  in  such  a  crisis 
religion  and  morality  can  escape  the  criticism  which  is 
being  applied  to  all  other  institutions.  Their  friends  can 
best  serve  their  interests  not  by  seeking  to  shield  them 
from  criticism  but  by  seeking  to  guide  criticism  into  ra- 
tional channels.  Unless,  however,  the  religious  revolu- 
tion (or  readjustment)  through  which  the  civilized  world 
is  now  passing  has  rational,  scientific  guidance,  the 
chances  are  wholly  upon  the  side  of  readjustment  upon  a 
much  lower  social  and  mental  plane  than  that  of  the 

i  Ibid.,  pp.    184-187. 


16       THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  EELIGION 

traditional    theological    Christianity   which    our   modern 
world  is  leaving  hehind. 

There  is  unfortunately  abundant  evidence *  just  at 
present  in  the  civilized  world  of  reversion  to  a  lower 
plane  of  moral  and  religious  values  than  existed  a  gen- 
eration ago.  It  is  true  that  there  have  also  been  made 
throughout  the  civilized  world  during  the  last  few  decades 
many  efforts  to  lift  both  religion  and  morality  to  a  higher 
social  and  to  a  more  rational  plane.  But  in  the  face  of 
the  world-wide  conflicts  of  the  present  it  would  be  foolish 
for  even  the  most  optimistic  to  believe  that  such  efforts 
have  been  generally  successful;  for  the  conflicts  between 
the  classes,  nations,  and  races  of  the  modern  world  are 
only  indicative  of  the  fact  that  as  yet  no  values,  adequate 
for  a  basis  of  harmonious  human  living  together,  have 
been  generally  accepted.  We  must  candidly  face  such 
facts;  and  while  there  may  be  many  grounds  for  encour- 
agement, as  the  writer  himself  firmly  believes,  it  is  use- 
less to  deny  or  to  gloss  over  the  facts  which  seem  to  indi- 
cate partial  social,  moral,  and  religious  retrogression.2  N 

1  A  part  of  this  evidence  will  be  found  in  Chapter  IV.  The  com- 
plexity of  our  civilization,  of  course,  makes  impossible  any  generaliza- 
tion which  will  apply  to  all  sections  of  our  population,  and  the 
statements  made  are  meant  to  express  only  general  trejids.  Leaders 
especially  often  advance  while  popular  standards  do  not  do  so  or 
revert. 

a  The  scientific  student  of  society  finds  that  periods  of  retrogression 
in  certain  lines  of  culture  are  not  unusual  in  human  history;  indeed, 
that  the  very  method  of  progress  in  the  past  at  least  has  been  by 
successive  advances  and  retrogressions,  just  as  the  mind  proceeds  by 
the  "trial  and  error"  method.  On  the  confusion,  uncertainty  and 
reversions  which  we  are  likely  to  find  in  periods  of  social  transition, 
see  my  Introduction  to  Social  Psychology,  pp.  162-164. 

Says  one  of  the  more  penetrating  popular  religious  writers:  "Blind 
indeed  are  those  who  do  not  see  the  fact  that  a  great  change  has 
come  over  men's  thought  on  the  subject  of  religion.  .  .  .  We  have 
broken  with  the  old  historical  conception  of  religion  in  general  and 
of  Christianity  in  particular,  and  we  have  not,  as  yet,  taken  hold  of 
the  new  conception.  We  are  out  of  the  old  house  and  not  yet  in  the 


THE  KELIGIOUS  KEVOLUTION  17 

It  should  be  unnecessary  to  say  that  the  scientific  social 
thinker  who  is  accustomed  to  the  idea  of  progress  is  not 
disturbed  by  those  specific  changes  in  modern  life  which 
indicate  a  progressive  rationalization  of  religion  and 
morality.  He  raises  the  question  of  decadence  only  when 
he  finds  reversions  toward  forms  which  he  knows  belong 
to  a  lower  rather  than  to  a  higher  stage  of  social  develop- 
ment. If,  for  example,  he  found  the  traditional  Chris- 
tianity of  the  past  being  replaced  by  a  form  of  religion 
which  was  evidently  more  adapted  to  the  scientific  knowl- 
edge and  to  the  general  requirements  of  the  social  life  of 
the  present,  he  would  not  be  disturbed  by  such  a  state- 
ment as  the  following,  made  by  a  recent  English  writer: 
"Certainly  during  the  years  immediately  preceding  the 
outbreak  of  the  war  there  were  signs  that  sympathy  with 
the  Neo-Pagan  spirit  was  deepening  and  becoming  more 
widespread.  In  literature  and  art,  in  journalism,  in  phi- 
losophy, and  even  in  the  Church  there  were  solitary  in- 
dividuals and  small  groups  of  men  and  women  who 
were  beginning  to  make  themselves  heard.  .  .  .  The  most 
potent  element  .  .  .  was  probably  the  increasing  influence 
of  Nietzsche." 

Too  much  in  our  social  life  may  easily  be  ascribed  to 
the  influence  of  an  individual ;  but  individuals  often  sym- 
bolize social  tendencies.  If  Nietzsche  were  not  profoundly 


new.  Our  state  of  mind  is  an  unsettled  state,  our  opinions  being  in 
the  condition  of  the  vines  that  have  been  torn  from  the  wall  to  which 
they  clung,  without  being  given  anything  else  to  cling  to. 

"I  am  sure  that  the  new  wall  is  in  process  of  building,  and  that 
in  due  time  the  vines  now  trailing  the  dust  will  find  upon  it  proper 
support.  In  a  word,  the  rational — that  is  to  say  true — interpreta- 
tion of  religion  will  come  by  and  by,  and  when  it  does  there  will 
bo  an  abundant  supply  of  men  ready  and  willing  to  proclaim  its 
uplifting  truths." 

To  this  statement  the  author  would  heartily  subscribe. 


18       THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

symptomatic  of  his  age  and  of  the  present  day,1  if  he  were 
not  a  symbol,  if  he  did  not  set  the  problem  for  us,  it  would 
be  idle  to  mention  him  at  all  in  our  discussion.  But 
from  Machiavelli  to  Nietzsche  there  has  been  a  constant 
succession  of  writers  who  have  denied  and  derided  the 
social  ideals  of  Christianity.  The  attacks  made  upon 
theological  Christianity  left  the  social  influence  of  the 
Church  but  little,  if  at  all,  weakened ;  for  original  Chris- 
tianity, that  is  to  say  the  teachings  of  Jesus,  had  had  but 
little  theology  in  it.  The  Church  has  often  condemned 
men  for  their  theological  opinions;  but  Jesus  never  did. 
The  profoundly  significant  thing  in  the  religious  revolu- 
tion, then,  has  been  not  the  attack  upon  theology,  but  the 
attack  upon  and  the  gradual  undermining  of  Christian 
ethical  ideals;  and  in  this  movement  Nietzsche  not  only 
marks  the  culmination  but  symbolizes  and  embodies  what 
we  must  undoubtedly  regard  as  one  of  the  strongest  tend-^ 
encies  of  modern  civilization — the  movement  back  toward 
pagan  ideals.  This  is  the  opinion  not  only  of  a  host  c»i 
writers  friendly  to  Christianity,  but  also  of  many  of  the 
avowed  exponents  of  Neo-Paganism  itself.  For  the  pur- 
poses of  our  discussion,  then,  Nietzsche  is  merely  a  sym- 
bol to  define  our  problem. 

If  Nietzsche  symbolizes  so  much  in  the  spirit  of  our 
time,  and  especially  the  tendency  to  reversion  to  the 
pagan  level,  it  will  be  well  to  present  a  few  of  his  lead- 
ing ideas  in  brief  quotations,  even  though  the  literature 
of  the  present  is  crowded  ad  nauseam  with  these. 

"I  regard  Christianity,"  says  Nietzsche,  "as  the  most 
fatal  and  seductive  lie  that  has  ever  yet  existed."  2  "Sexu- 

1  Despite  the  large  literature  upon  Nietzsche,  there  is  little  that 
treats  of  him  as  a  social  phenomenon,  a  product  of  our  civilization. 
An  approach  to  this  is  found  in  Figgis,  The  Will  to  Freedom. 

a  The  Will  to  Power,  translated  by  A.  M.  Ludovici,  p.  163.  This  is 
the  best  single  book  to  present  .Nietzsche's  ideas. 


THE  RELIGIOUS  REVOLUTION"  19 

ality,  lust  of  dominion,  the  pleasure  derived  from  appear- 
ance and  deception,  great  and  joyful  gratitude  to  Lifo 
and  its  typical  conditions  .  .  .  these  things  are  essential  to 
(all  Paganism,  and  it  has  a  good  conscience  on  its  side." 
"Poverty,  humility,  chastity,  are  dangerous  and  slander- 
ous ideals." 2  "Morality  is  a  menagerie,"  concludes 
Nietzsche,  "it  assumes  that  iron  bars  may  be  more  useful 
than  freedom,  even  for  the  creature  that  it  imprisons." 

In  one  respect  Nietzsche  was,  of  course,  not  symbolical 
of  his  age,  or  at  least  of  no  increasing  party  in  it;  and 
that  was  in  his  hatred  of  democracy  and  his  exaltation  of 
the  aristocratic  ideal  of  life.  "The  maintenance  of  the 
military  state,"  he  says  in  a  characteristic  passage,  "is  the 
last  means  of  adhering  to  the  great  tradition  of  the  past, 
or,  where  it  has  been  lost,  to  revive  it.  By  means  of  it 
the  superior  or  strong  type  of  man  is  preserved,  and  all 
institutions  and  ideas  which  perpetuate  enmity  and  order 
of  rank  in  states,  such  as  national  feeling,  protective 
tariffs,  etc.,  may  on  that  account  seem  justified."  4 

It  will  not  do  to  dismiss  Nietzsche's  ideas  with  the  re- 
mark that  he  was  mentally  abnormal,  because  the  enlight- 
ened egoism,  brute  force,  class  aggrandizement,  and  gen- 
eral glorification  of  the  brute  in  man  which  he  preached 
have  been  altogether  too  prevalent  in  our  civilization  to 
admit  disposing  of  Nietzsche's  creed  in  such  a  manner. 
Indeed,  three  centuries  ago  Machiavelli  said  very  much 
the  same  things,  and  he,  too,  was  symptomatic  of  the 
reversion  toward  pagan  ideals  in  his  day.  If  his  teach- 
ings do  not  appear  to  have  had  the  influence  which 
Nietzsche's  teachings  appear  to  have  at  present,  it  is  only 

1  Quoted  by  Figgis,  op.  cit.,  p.  277. 

1  The  Will  to  Power,  p.  183. 

8  Ibid.,  p.  348. 

*  Quoted  by  Figgis,  op.  cit.,  p.  282. 


20       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

because  Nietzsche  is  more  profoundly  representative  of 
certain  tendencies  of  our  age.  Few  in  the  English-speak- 
ing world  even  knew  Nietzsche's  name  previous  to  the 
Great  War;  but  that  his  practical  followers  even  among 
English-speaking  people  have  numbered  millions,  no  one 
can  doubt  who  has  probed  deeply  into  the  spirit  of  our 
time,1  though  of  course  few  of  his  unconscious  followers 
have  had  the  courage  of  conviction  or  the  logical  consist- 
ency which  Nietzsche  had.  Whatever  his  madness,  he 
did  the  world  the  invaluable  service  of  showing  what  the 
movement  back  toward  pagan  ideals  logically  means  in  its 
final  development.  We  have  quoted  from  him,  then,  be- 
cause he  sets  the  problem  for  us.  The  religion*  problem 
of  our  day,  in  other  words,  is  not  a  problem  in  metaphysics 
or  theology;  it  is  a  problem  in  the  practical  values  of  hu- 
man living.  This  Nietzsche  with  characteristic  insight 
clearly  saw  and  emphasized. 

Already  two  generations  ago  Comte  foresaw  some  such 
issue,  when  he  declared  that  theological  Christianity  was 
dying  and  that  the  first  task  of  social  science  was  to  find 
adequate  scientific  supports  for  Christian  morality.  Chris- 
tian morality,  he  feared,  might  disintegrate  with  the 
decay  of  Christian  theology,  with  resulting  calamity  to 
civilization,  unless  science  provided  for  the  former  a 
scientific  basis.  Only  he  failed  to  appreciate  that  there 
was  little  chance  of  preserving  Christian  morality  without 
the  "world's  acknowledging  the  leadership  of  Jesus. 

Let  us  now  turn,  however,  from  the  world  of  opinion 
to  the  world  of  action.  There  we  find,  if  anything,  even 
more  tangible  and  startling  proofs  of  the  Renaissance  of 
Paganism.2  The  worst  in  pagan  morals  found  constant 

1  See  Chapter  IV. 

1  For  fuller  definition  of  "paganism,"  "pagan  ideals,"  see  Chapter  IV. 


THE  RELIGIOUS  REVOLUTION  21 

and  reiterated  expression  in  the  Great  World  War.1  The 
War  itself  was,  indeed,  at  bottom  nothing  but  the  expres- 
sion of  the  development  of  pagan  tendencies  in  the  mod- 
ern world.  These  tendencies  came  to  a  head  in  modern 
Germany,  and  her  ruthlessness  in  the  War  only  fore- 
shadows the  "terror"  which  the  religious  revolution  may 
bring  to  the  whole  world  unless  we  succeed  in  establish- 
ing a  socialized  religion  and  morality. 

While  Germany  undoubtedly  led  in  paganizing  the 
world,  it  would  be  foolish  to  fail  to  see  that  the  same 
tendencies  have  been  at  work  in  a  marked  degree  in  every 
nation  of  Christendom.  Machiavellian  statecraft,  making 
might  and  expansion  the  sole  object  of  international  poli- 
tics, and  the  power  of  one  class  over  another  the  chief  end 
of  domestic  politics,  has  been  increasingly  manifest  for 
the  last  three  or  four  decades  among  Western  nations. 
Behind  this  Machiavellian  statecraft  has  been  a  ruthless 
and  predatory  organization  of  certain  business  interests 
that  aimed  only  at  enormous  profits,  either  from  the  ex- 
ploitation of  natural  resources  within  the  nation,  or  of 
foreign  markets. 

In  the  private  concerns  of  life  reversion  to  lower  levels 
of  conduct  has  been  not  less  in  evidence.  Marriage  and 
the  family  life  have  become  exploited  by  individuals 
simply  for  their  own  happiness  and  pleasure.  Divorces 
have  become  increasingly  common,2  venereal  diseases  have 

1  For  elaboration,  see  Chapter  IV. 

1  Already  by  1016  the  official  statistics  showed  that  the  divorce  rate 
in  the  United  States  (one  divorce  to  nine  marriages)  exceeded  that 
of  Japan,  which  previously  had  had  the  highest  divorce  rate  of  any 
great  civilized  nation.  For  fifty  years  the  divorce  rate  has  increased 
in  the  United  States  nearly  three  times  as  fast  as  population^  The 
sociological  significance  of  this  movement  is  not  generally  appreciated. 
The  family  is  not  only  the  chief  primary  group,  but  it  is  the  chief 
Creator  and  bearer  of  primary  moral  ideals.  The  disintegration  of  the 
family  is,  therefore,  necessarily  accompanied  by  moral  disintegration. 


22       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

doubled  and  trebled  in  the  population,  while  free  love, 
temporary  marriages,  and  polygamy  have  found  ardent 
advocates. 

In  the  realm  of  practical  moral  and  religious  move- 
ments, the  religious  revolution  has  already  expressed  itself 
in  striking  phenomena.  Religious  and  moral  agnosticism 
have  become  common  in  the  sophisticated  circles  of  so- 
ciety. It  has  become  fashionable  in  some  of  these  circles, 
indeed,  to  believe  in  nothing  except  mere  negations.  But 
among  the  less  critically  minded,  lower  forms  of  religion 
and  ethics  already  have  begun  to  appear.  We  find  re- 
vivals of  polytheism,  of  oriental  mysticism,  of  sun  wor- 
ship, and  similar  cults.1  It  is  becoming  evident,  indeed, 
that  if  rational  religion  does  not  dominate  in  our  civiliza- 
tion, in  the  long  run  irrational  religion  is  bound  to  do 
so.2  Nietzscheism  itself  may  be  regarded  as  but  one  of 
these  irrational  cults.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  mention 
that  one  of  the  striking  phenomena  of  the  Great  War  was 
the  tendency  it  revealed  to  revert  to  lower  forms  of  re- 
ligious beliefs  and  practises.  Not  only  did  the  religion 
of  fear  tend  to  displace  the  religion  of  trust,  and 

See  my  Sociology  and  Modern  Social  Problems,  1919  edition,  Chapters 
IV  and  VIII. 

1  In  a  recent  editorial  the  editor  of  Nature  (London),  commenting; 
on  the  "remarkable  recrudescence"  of  belief  in  amulets,  mascots,  and 
other  forms  of  magic  in  present  society  rightly  characterizes  these  as 
antisocial  reversions  to  a  wholly  primitive  mode  of  thought.  Tie  adds: 
"To  the  sociologist  this  phase  of  modern  credulity  is  of  the  greatest 
moment.  Religion,  with  the  attendant  moral  codes,  has,  on  th^  whole, 
proved  one  of  the  strongest  factors  in  the  pros.Tv.it  ion  of  the  social 
structure.  .  .  .  Should  the  place  of  (ethical )  religion  be  taken  by  a 
reversion  on  any  extended  scale  to  a  wholly  primitive  mode  of  thought, 
the  prospect  affords  faint  hope  of  social  security  and  progress."  Of 
course,  the  same  remarks  would  apply  equally  well  to  any  of  the  other 
retrogressive  movements  mentioned. 

'  Says  Professor  Hobhouse:  "The  history  of  our  time  shows  that  if 
men  no  longer  believe  in  God,  they  will  make  themselves  gods  of 
power,  of  evolution,  of  the  race,  the  Nation  or  the  State"  (Meta- 
physical Theory  of  the  State,  p.  234). 


THE  KELIGIOUS  REVOLUTION  23 

the  religion  of  hate  the  religion  of  love,  but  tendencies 
were  even  in  evidence  to  revert  from  true  monotheism  to 
"henotheism."  *  National  deities  were  again  invoked  and 
found  worshippers. 

Many  questions  connected  with  the  religious  revolution 
might  here  he  raised.  In  the  next  chapter  we  shall  try  to 
show  that  religion  and  morality  are  the  most  profoundly 
significant  things  in  determining  the  character  of  our 
social  life,  and  that  therefore  such  phenomena  as  those  we 
have  just  discussed  are  of  the  utmost  social  import.  But  be- 
fore we  attempt  this  it  may  be  well  to  ask,  whither  are 
we  going?  What  is  to  be  the  end  of  the  religious  revo- 
lution ?  Is  it  to  end  in  the  negation  of  religion  and,  pos- 
sibly, of  idealistic  morality? 

Before  any  one  draws  such  a  pessimistic  conclusion  it 
would  be  well  to  remember  that  while  the  dangers  of 
serious  reversion  are  great  in  any  period  of  social  transi- 
tion and  revolution,  yet  they  are  not  insurmountable,  and 
if  met  by  rational  intelligence  they  will  probably  be  over- 
come and  a  higher  stage  of  development  ushered  in.  Hu- 
man history,  indeed,  gives  us  every  encouragement  to  be- 
lieve that  this  will  be  the  result  in  the  present  crisis,  if 
the  sensible  and  rationally-minded  leaders  in  religion  and 
ethics  lay  aside  their  minor  differences,  close  up  their 
ranks,  and  unite  in  leading  civilization  to  a  higher  phase 
of  religion  and  morality.  For  the  world  has  passed 
through  many  religious  revolutions  in  the  past,  or  at  least, 
through  many  great  religious  changes,  and  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  hitherto  the  vast  majority  of  them  have  been 
for  the  better.  Neither  pessimism  nor  foolish  optimism 

iThis  word  is  used  by  students  of  religion  to  designate  the 
nationalistic  stage  of  religion  preceding  true  monotheism.  Se«  next 
chapter. 


24       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

are  warranted,  then,  in  the  present  crisis  in  religion  and 
ethics;  but  only  determination  on  the  part  of  religiously 
minded  people,  whether  inside  of  or  outside  of  churches, 
to  meet  the  crisis  with  wisdom  and  rationality. 

Religion  is  a  thing  which  is  evolving,  developing,  like 
everything  else  in  the  world.1  The  type  of  religion  which 
was  .suited  to  yesterday  will  not  be  suitable  for  to-morrow; 
aiid  yet  the  essence  of  religion  remains  the  same,  as  we 
shall  see,  while  it  ascends  to  higher  and  higher  forms. 
Like  everything  else  in  human  culture  it  builds  itself  upon 
foundations  laid  in  the  past.  There  is  no  such  thing  in 
civilization  as  a  new  way  of  human  living  which  is  not 
rooted  in  the  past.  Progress  consists  rather  in  the  inven- 
tion or  building  up  of  new  elements,  institutions,  or  ways 
of  living,  through  a  selection  and  re-combination  of  old 
elements.  But  if  the  new  is  to  work  well  there  must  be 
careful  and  rational  selection  of  the  old.  We  must  be 
careful  to  see  that  nothing  of  real  value  for  the  present 
or  the  future  is  lost.  This  is  the  true  policy  of  social 
conservation,  and  it  applies  in  religion  and  ethics  as  well 
as  in  all  other  social  matters.  If  we  follow  this  pathway 
of  "conservating"  progress,  we  can  never  go  far  astray. 

No  less  than  seven  distinct  stages  of  religious  evolu- 
tion, of  man's  conception  of  the  divine,  according  to 
anthropologists,  may  be  found  in  the  past ;  namely, 
manaism,  animism,  totemism,  ancestor  worship,  poly- 
theism, henotheism,  and  monotheism.2  Each  stage  has 

1  Says  Professor  Conklin  (The  Direction  of  Human  Evolution,  p. 
175)  :  "The  fact  of  the  evolution  of  religion  is  held  by  some  to  destroy 
its  value  and  significance,  hut  one  might  as  well  hold  that  the  develop- 
ment of  the  individual  destroys  the  value  or  personality  or  that  the 
evolution  of  man  destroys  his  unique  superiority  over  all  other 
creatures." 

*  These  are  dealt  with  more  fully  in  the  next  chapter  (pp.  48  f.). 
They  are  mentioned  here  merely  to  give  background  to  the  present 
stage  of  the  general  discussion. 


THE  KELIGIOUS  KEVOLUTIOST  25 

meant  a  higher  conception  of  the  universal  reality  in 
which  man  lives,  and  moves,  and  has  his  heing.  It  has 
meant,  also,  a  higher  conception  on  the  part  of  man  of  his 
own  life  and  destiny  and  of  his  relationship  to  his  fellow 
men.  Thus  far  each  new  stage  in  the  development  of  re- 
ligion has  meant  a  new  stage  in  civilization  and  vice  versa. 
The  question  is,  What  is  the  next  stage  ?  Is  it  "atheism," 
as  so  many  *  have  said  ?  Whither  does  the  religious  revo- 
lution now  lead? 

It  hardly  needs  to  be  pointed  out  to  the  student  of  civili- 
zation that  we  have  scarcely  yet  attained  to  a  true  mono- 
theism ;  that  we  left  henotheism  behind  but  yesterday,  and 
that  still  the  peoples  of  the  world  are  prone  to  relapse  into 
it.  It  ought,  also,  to  be  unnecessary  to  point  out  that 
monotheism  itself  has  many  stages.  "Deism,"  for  exam- 
ple, the  idea  that  God  is  a  sort  of  super-engineer  who 
made  the  universe  like  a  great  machine,  was  a  favorite 
form  of  monotheism  among  those  intellectualists  of  the 
eighteenth  century  who  clung  to  some  sort  of  attenuated 
religious  belief.  Curiously  enough,  we  may  remark  in 
passing,  it  is  the  sort  of  religious  belief  which  is  com- 
monly ascribed  to  intelligent  religious  people  by  those  who 
would  reject  altogether  the  idea  of  God.  And  it  must  be 
acknowledged  that  deism,  as  well  as  henotheism,  still 
abounds  in  the  religious  life  not  only  of  so-called  Chris- 
tian peoples,  but  even  of  members  of  Christian  churches. 

1  So  Guyau  in  his  Non-Religion  of  the  Future.  So  also  Miss  Jane 
Harrison,  author  of  several  brilliant  studies  on  the  social  origin  and 
development  of  religion.  So  Eugenic  Rignano,  editor  of  the  inter- 
national scientific  review,  Scientia,  and  many  others  of  many  schools 
of  thought.  In  the  study  referred  to  above,  Professor  Leuba  found 
agnosticism  and  atheism  very  prevalent  among  American  men  of 
science.  The  conventional  attitude  of  some  scientific  men  is  typically 
expressed  by  Sellars,  who  says  (The  Next  Step  in  Religion,  p.  217)  : 
"The  truth  is  that  mankind  is  outgrowing  theism  in  a  gentle  and 
steady  way  until  it  ceases  to  have  any  clear  meaning." 


26       THE  KECOXSTEUCTION  OF  EELIGION 

It  would  be  strange,  indeed,  if,  in  accordance  with  the 
principles  which  we  have  just  laid  down,  we  should  find 
civilization  transcending  monotheism  before  it  had  fairly 
attained  to  it.  The  appearances  are  rather  those  of  re- 
version to  a  lower  stage  than  of  evolution  into  a  higher 
stage.  The  monotheistic  stage  of  religious  evolution,  we 
have  every  reason  to  believe  "when  we  carefully  examine 
the  facts,  has  only  just  begun.  Perhaps  humanity  may 
never  attain  fully  to  it ;  but  if  not,  it  will  surely  fall  back 
to  a  lower  form  of  religion.  The  religious  revolution 
which  we  are  now  undergoing,  if  it  does  not  fail  and  lead 
to  a  reversion,  concerns  the  transition  from  theological  to 
ethical  monotheism,  from  a  metaphysical  to  a  social  and 
scientific  conception  of  religion. 

Monotheism  is  not  outgrown,  for  rationally  understood, 
it  can  never  be  outgrown;  we  have  not  yet  grown  into  it. 
We  need  a  more  social  form  of  it;  but  we  cannot  escape 
the  necessity  for  faith  that  the  system  of  things  is  not 
alien  to  ourselves.  If  man  is  to  have  a  vital,  social  re- 
ligion he  cannot  believe  that  the  universe  is  a  "fool's 
house"  which  will  bring  to  naught  his  highest  endeavors. 
He  must  be  able  to  face  the  universal  reality  of  which  he 
is  a  part  with  confidence  that  it  is  on  the  side  of  hi3 
highest  endeavors.  It  is  a  part  of  his  positive  scientific 
knowledge  that  all  that  he  is,  all  that  he  values,  all  that 
is  highest  and  best  in  himself,  has  come  from  that  one 
universal  reality.1  It  would  be  irrational  if  he  did  not 
believe  that  he  could  put  his  trust  in  the  ascending  energy 
of  the  universe  which  has  created  him  and  made  possible 
his  works.  No ;  man  will  never  cease  to  need  a  positive, 
constructive,  trustful  attitude  toward  the  universe  and  the 
whole  system  of  things.2  He  must  have  confidence  in  his 

1  See  Chapter  V,  pp.  134-140. 
1  See  Chapter  II,  pp.  59-64. 


THE  KELIGIOUS  KEVOLUTION  27 

world,  if  he  is  not  to  despair.  lie  must  believe  in  the 
possibilities  and  the  value  of  life  if  his  energies  are  to  be 
fully  released  l — if  he  is  to  function  efficiently  as  a  mem- 
ber of  society,  to  the  point,  perhaps,  of  complete  self- 
sacrifice.  /He  must  be  able,  in  other  words,  to  confront 
the  issues  of  life  and  death  with  a  supreme  faith ;  but  to 
do  this  he  must  project  his  social  and  personal  values  into 
the  universal  reality  itself.  J 

Even  the  most  primitive  forms  of  religion  did  this  for 
the  most  primitive  men.  Their  religion  braced  their  vital 
feeling,  gave  them*  confidence  in  themselves  and  in  their 
world.  The  savage  of  to-day  tells  us  that  his  religion,  or, 
as  in  our  superiority  we  would  say,  his  superstition,  makes 
him  feel  good,  glad,  gives  him  second  sight,  strength,  suc- 
cess in  war,  and  in  all  undertakings  generally.  More  than 
this  could  scarcely  be  said,  oftentimes,  for  the  religion 
of  even  the  most  higHly  civilized  individual. 

In  one  great  respect,  however,  apart  from  the  content 
of  theological  belief,  the  religion  of  primitive  man  ap- 
parently differed  from  the  religion  of  the  modern  man. 
The  religion  of  primitive  man  apparently  dominated  his 
whole  life,  his  government,  his  social  organization,  his 
family  and  sex  life,  his  education,  and  even  his  food- 
getting.2  This  we  know  remained  so  even  in  mediaeval 
Europe ;  and  it  has  often  been  pointed  out  that  one  great 
characteristic  of  modern  society  is  the  complete  divorce- 
ment of  one  social  interest  after  another  from  religion. 
Thus  industry,  politics,  education,  science,  family  life,  and 

1  Says  Professor  Hobhouse:    "If  we  believe  the  whole  course  of 
human   evolution  to   be   without   significance  .  .  .  we   shall    place   a 
lower  estimate  on  all  that  makes  for  the  control  of  natural  conditions 
by  the  human  mind,  and  a  high  one  on  all  that  leads  to  resignation 
and  submission."    (The  Rational  Good,  p.  232.) 

2  For  elaboration,  consult  the  work  of  Durkheim,  The  Elementary 
Forms  of  the  Religious  Life,  especially  Chapters  I-1V  of  Book  II. 


28       THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

even  morality  itself,  are  said  to  have  successively  divorced 
themselves  from  their  setting  of  religious  feeling. 

In  so  far  as  this  is  a  wholesome  movement  it  may  be 
questioned,  however,  whether  the  separation  is  not  more 
formal  than  real.  An  industry,  politics,  education,  science, 
family  life,  morality,  which  are  absolutely  divorced  from 
religious  feeling  and  values,  must  become  in  time  intol- 
erable. The  social  life  is  such  a  unity  that  its  values,  as 
we  shall  try  to  show,  must  all  be  suffused  with  religious 
feeling  if  they  are  to  come  to  the  individual  with  the 
fullest  sanction.  The  divorcement  of  politics,  government, 
and  the  state  from  religion,  for  example,  is  not  a  divorce- 
ment which  we  need  to  fear,  provided  the  individual  citi- 
zen carries  again  his  religious  attitude  back  into  these 
practical  activities;  but  a  government  which  is  in  no 
degree  controlled  by  religious  values  would  soon  cease  to 
be  a  government  in  accord  with  the  conditions  of  man's 
life.  The  so-called  secularization  of  many  activities,  there- 
fore, only  means  that  these  activities  have  been  divorced 
from  the  formal  control  of  ecclesiastical  organization. 

So  far  from  such  secularization  being  opposed  to  the 
real  interests  of  religion,  those  who  believe  in  free  or 
democratic  society  see  in  this  movement  only  opportunity 
for  the  vital  expansion  of  religion.  The  release  of  these 
great  human  interests  from  formal  ecclesiastical  control 
gives  opportunity,  in  other  words,  for  vital  religion,  as  it 
expresses  itself  through  the  conscience  of  the  individual, 
to  pervade  and  truly  moralize  these  activities.  To  take 
another  example,  it  has  not  been  found  that  charity  has' 
lost  any  of  its  religious  appeal  or  value  through  its  being 
conducted  by  secular  organizations  or  by  branches  of  the 
state.  On  the  contrary,  by  this  very  method  the  values 
of  rational  humanitarian  religion  have  oftentimes  been 
impressed  more  deeply  upon  the  community  as  a  whole. 


THE  KELIGIOUS  KEVOLUTION  29 

Ecclesiastical  control  must  not  be  confused  with  control 
by  spiritual  religion.  Even  religion  itself  has  profited  by 
escaping  from  a  too  formal  ecclesiastical  control. 

Still  it  would  be  foolish  to  overlook  the  fact  that  this 
secularization  of  one  phase  of  our  social  life  after  another, 
if  not  accompanied  by  a  deepening  and  broadening  of  the 
religious  life  of  the  individual,  is  fraught  with  many 
dangers.  Thus  we  may  easily  get  through  such  separa- 
tion purely  official  and  brutalized  charity,  a  paganized, 
Machiavellian  politics, — and  a  profits-at-any-price  indus- 
try. Thus  it  comes  about  that  the  modern  man  with  the 
immense  complexity  and  specialization  of  his  activities 
needs  religion  to  safeguard  his  social  life,  if  anything, 
even  more  than  did  primitive  man.  He  needs  it  because 
he  lives  in  a  more  complex,  specialized  world  in  which  the 
difficulties  of  adjustment  are  greater.  He  needs  it,  also, 
because  of  his  higher  intellectual  development  which 
makes  it  more  necessary  for  him  to  see  a  meaning  in 
things  beyond  mere  appearances  if  he  is  to  adjust  himself 
successfully  to  them.  He  needs  it,  finally,  because  stronger 
and  more  universal  good  will  are  necessary  as  social  inter- 
dependence in  a  world-wide  social  life  develops.  As 
Comte  said,  then,  man  must  become  ever  more  religious, 
if  he  is  to  preserve  that  harmony  of  the  inner  with  the 
outer  which  gives  an  abounding  and  satisfying  life, 
whether  in  the  group  or  in  the  individual. 

But  there  is  no  argument,  some  may  say,  for  the  truth 
of  religion  in  the  fact  that  man  needs  religion.  If  by  this 
is  meant  that  the  truth  of  any  particular  religious  belief 
is  not  demonstrated  by  its  social  utility,  that  we  would 
admit.  It  is  not  our  purpose  to  discuss  in  this  book  the 
question  of  the  metaphysical  truth  of  specific  religious  be- 
liefs, or  even  of  the  religious  view  of  life  in  general.  It 


30       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

is  rather  our  purpose  to  point  out  the  personal  and  social 
value  of  religion.  In  both  science  and  practical  life,  how- 
ever, we  do  judge  the  truth  of  propositions  largely  by  the 
way  they  work  out  in  practice — by  their  practical  value. 
If  we  find  that  we  cannot  act  on  a  proposition — that  it 
will  not  work  in  practice — a  presumption  is  established 
against  its  truth.  Science,  then,  no  less  than  religion  is 
positive  in  its  attitude  toward  experience.  It  does  not 
proceed  wholly  by  doubt,  but  affirms  to  be  true  what  is 
tested  by  experience.  Faith  in  the  world  of  human  ex- 
perience, when  taken  as  a  whole  and  its  errors  allowed  to 
cancel  one  another,  is  the  supreme  faith  of  science. 
Science  rests  upon  this  faith. 

It  is  even  so  with  sane  religion.  It,  too,  builds  itself 
up  out  of  the  experience  of  life.  If  it  affirms  to  be  true 
certain  beliefs  and  values,  it  is  because  it  finds  these  to  be 
justified  by  their  works  in  the  lives  of  men  and  in  the 
whole  structure  of  human  society.  The  chief  difference 
is  in  their  history,  that  science  has  kept  the  open  mind 
and  has  revised  its  appraisals  of  truth  as  experience  has 
widened ;  while  religion,  becoming  enmeshed  in  tradition- 
alism, has  too  often  refused  to  do  this;  it  has  too  often 
remained  static  while  society  has  been  evolving.  It  has 
too  often  failed  to  keep  the  open  mind. 

But  the  religious  revolution  has  now  given  religion  the 
opportunity  to  become  a  dynamic  rather  than  a  static  thing 
— to  become  "experimental,"  as  it  were;  at  least,  to  base 
itself  upon  the  experience  and  needs  of  men  in  a  present 
world.  Thus  between  positive,  constructive  science  and 
rational,  constructive  religion  opposition  should  lessen. 
When  social  science  becomes  fully  positive  and  construc- 
tive, it  will  indeed  lead  to  rational  social  religion.  The 


THE  BELIGIOUS  HE  VOLUTION  31 

religious  revolution  need  not,  then,  end  in  chaos  and  ir- 
religion.  It  can  and  should  end,  if  guided  by  intelligence, 
in  a  new  era  of  rational  religious  faith.1 

The  great  English  painter,  Watts,  symbolized  the  faith, 
or  rather  the  lack  of  faith,  of  the  nineteenth  century  in  his 
picture  of  Hope  seated  blindfolded  upon  the  earth.  But 
such  a  view  of  man's  relation  to  the  universal  reality  can 
hardly  be  taken  as  the  final  verdict  of  the  rational  mind. 
The  absolute  agnosticism  and  scepticism  of  the  nineteenth 
century  can  scarcely  be  regarded  as  more  than  an  ab- 
normal mental  attitude  brought  about  by  the  confusion 
and  uncertainty  of  a  transitional  era  in  religious  beliefs. 
The  ages  of  faith  are  not  past,  as  we  are  often  told;  for 
faith  is  of  the  very  essence  of  normal  human  life.  The 
ages  of  irrational  faith,  we  may  hope,  are  past  or  passing; 
but  the  age  of  a  rational  and  understanding  faith  is  still 
ahead.  We  need  the  maximum  of  faith,  not  the  mini- 
mum; but  it  must  be  a  faith  built  upon  facts.  To  reach 
such  faith,  we  cannot  turn  our  backs  on  knowledge,  science, 
and  revert  again  to  mysticism.  We  must  not  fear  intel- 
ligence. Our  safety  must  consist  in  following  it  in  build- 
ing up,  on  the  facts  of  life,  a  reasonable  faith. 

Says  Professor  Smith :  "Beneath  the  stirrings  and  seeth- 
ings  of  modern  unrest,  one  discerns  dimly  the  outlines  of 
a  religion  which  shall  trust  in  the  larger  future  instead 
of  being  bound  literally  to  the  past ;  which  shall  glory  in 
the  capacity  of  man  to  use  God's  resources  to  remake  this 
world  instead  of  inculcating  a  passive  dependence  on 
supernatural  forces  which  lie  out  of  man's  reach;  which 
shall  develop  scientific  control  into  a  mighty  instrument 

1  Professor  G.  B.  Smith  is  undoubtedly  right  in  his  contention  (in 
his  Social  Idealism  and  the  Changing  Theology]  that  the  world 
revealed  by  modern  science  is  richer  in  possibilities  of  reasonable 
religious  faith  than  the  old  supernatural  world  ever  waa. 


32       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

for   the   welfare   of  man    instead    of   uttering  warnings 
against  the  'dangers'  of  scientific  theories."  * 

To  sketch  the  outlines  of  such  a  religion,  will  be  the 
task  of  the  succeeding  chapters. 

1  Social  Idealism  and  the  Changing  Theology,  p.  154. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF   RELIGION 

"MORALITIES  and  religions,"  said  Nietzsche  with  char- 
acteristic insight,  "are  the  principal  means  by  which  one 
can  modify  men  into  whatever  one  likes,"  provided,  he 
added,  that  one  is  given  time  enough  in  which  to  do  it. 
Yet  nothing  is  perhaps  more  openly  questioned  to-day  than 
the  social  power  of  religion.  It  is  not  our  purpose  to  go 
fully  into  the  psychology  and  sociology  of  religion,  but 
we  must  know  something  about  the  real  nature  of  religion 
oefore  we  can  understand  its  significance  for  the  social 
life  of  man.  This  is  the  first  thing  necessary  in  consid- 
ering the  reconstruction  of  religion. 

No  one  can  doubt  the  power  of  religion  in  exceptional 
individual  cases.  St.  Simeon  Stylites  lived  at  the  top  of 
a  sixty  foot  pillar  for  thirty  years  without  descending. 
The  Hindu  fakir  holds  his  fist  closed  until  the  nails  of 
his  fingers  grow  through  the  back  of  his  hand.  Both  these 
feats  would  seem  incredible  were  they  not  well-authenti- 
cated facts; *  and  indeed  thoy  could  only  be  possible 
through  religious  fanaticism.  The  power  of  "fixed  ideas" 
is  a  familiar  fact  of  abnormal  psychology.  The  "religious 
psychosis,"  as  we  might  call  it,  has  produced  more  mira-  N 

N/ 

1  The  scientific  facts  for  the  interpretation  of  religion  are,  of  course, 
as  broad  as  human  history.  The  literature  of  anthropology  especially 
abounds  in  them.  Perhaps  the  best  collection  of  scientific  material  on 
religion  is  to  be  found  in  the  monumental  Hastings:  Encyclopedia  of 
Religion  and  Ethics,  though  the  articles  are  of  unequal  value.  See 
especially  the  articlos  on  "Religion."  "Animism,"  "Ancestor  Wor- 
ship," etc.  Good  bibliographies  accompany  each  article. 

33 


34       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

cles  in  human  behavior  than  even  the  most  enthusiastic 
advocate  of  religion  has  ever  given  it  credit  for.1  Not 
only  have,  by  means  of  it,  drunkards  and  criminals  been 
reformed,  prostitutes  been  led  to  lead  a  pure  life,  sinners 
in  general  made  to  repent,  the  sick  made  well,  but  the 
character  of  whole  communities  has  been  radically  altered, 
even  transformed,  in  the  course  of  a  few  years.  Such 
facts  as  these  are  not  open  to  even  scientific  doubt,  because 
they  are  checked  up  by  overwhelming  evidence  on  the  one 
hand,  and  by  the  general  principles  of  normal  and  ab- 
normal psychology  on  the  other  hand. 

Indeed,  when  we  examine  the  matter,  we  find  that  re- 
ligion has  entered  into  the  warp  and  woof  of  every  civili- 
zation that  the  world  has  known.  Sociology  and  anthro- 
pology show  that  this  was  not  due  to  accident.  What 
makes  civilization  is  the  mass  of  habits  and  traditions 
handed  down  with  constant  accumulations  from  generation 
to  generation.  But  these  habits  and  traditions  cannot  be 
thus  passed  on  in  human  society  without  strong  social 
sanctions  attached  to  them.  They  are  passed  on,  in  other 
words,  as  customs,  as  traditional  beliefs,  values,  and 
standards;  in  brief,  as  "mores."  Now  the  mores  of  a 
people  are  all-powerful,  but  they  are  such  only  because 
they  are  embedded  in  religious  sanctions.2  They  begin 

1  Perhaps  the  best  easily  accessible  collection  of  facts  on  the  effect 
of  religion  on  individual  behavior  is  to  be  found  in  James's  Varieties 
of  Religious  Experience,  Lectures  IV  to  XV  inclusive. 

8  Durkheim's  view  (set  forth  in  his  Elementary  Forms  of  the 
Religious  Life)  that  primitive  religion  is  the  original  matrix  out  of 
which  have  developed  government,  law,  morality,  philosophy,  science, 
art,  etc.,  is,  of  course,  correct  if  we  enlarge  our  conception  of  religion 
BO  that  it  means  "the  mores  regarded  as  sacred."  More  narrowly, 
however,  religion  is  a  peculiar  sanction  given  to  the  mores.  For 
exposition  of  the  sociology  of  the  mores,  see  Sumner's  classical  work, 
Folkways:  A  Study  of  the  Sociological  Importance  of  Usages, 
Manners,  Customs,  Mores  and  Morals,  especially  Chapters  I  and  II. 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  RELIGION     35 

to  crumble  and  disintegrate  as  soon  as  the  particular  re- 
ligious belief  or  sanction  which  accompanied  them  passes 
away.  But  with  them  crumbles  and  disintegrates  the  civi- 
lization of  which  they  were  a  part.  We  have  no  record  of 
a  civilization  which  long  endured  which  did  not  have  this 
religious  setting  for  its  mores ;  nor  of  any  which  endured 
long  after  this  setting  was  dissolved.1  The  full  reasons 
for  this  will  become  evident  as  we  proceed.  Our  argu- 
ment, however,  will  be  seen  not  to  rest  upon  the  uncertain 
foundations  of  an  historical  induction,  but  rather  upon 
fundamental  laws  of  human  nature  and  human  society. 
But,  it  may  be  said,  the  very  illustrations  just  used  show 
that  religion  is  as  frequently  a  power  for  evil  as  for  good ; 
or  even  that  it  is  reactionary,  and  belongs  to  the  irrational 
in  human  life.  That  it  has  been  very  frequently  in  the 
past  a  power  for  evil  and  for  unreason,  no  sane  student 
of  religion  or  of  human  society  would  deny.  Our  only 
contention  is  that  religion  is  a  real  power  in  human  life, 
and  one  that  cannot  be  dispensed  with  in  the  more  complex 
stages  of  social  evolution,  even  though  it  may  be  made 
to  serve  the  evil  as  well  as  the  good.  By  the  same  token 
that  it  may  become  a  power  for  evil  it  may  be  made  a 
power  for  good.  All  human  history,  in  one  sense,  indeed, 
has  been  a  search  for  a  rational  and  social  religion.  Very 
early  even  in  primitive  ages  those  religious  beliefs  and 
practices  which  did  not  meet  with  the  approbation  of  the 
community  as  a  whole  were  outlawed  and  branded  as 
"black  magic."  2  So  to-day  we  still  brand  as  magic  or 

1  Hubbard  in  The  Fate  of  Empires,  Part  II,  assembles  some  of  the 
evidence. 

3  See  Marett:  The  Threshold  of  Religion,  especially  Chapter  III; 
also  his  Anthropology,  pp.  209-212.  The  general  view  of  magic  now 
held  by  a  majority  of  anthropologists  is  that  it  sprang  originally 
from  the  same  fundamental  processes  in  the  primitive  mind  as 
religion.  "The  two  fundamental  concepts  underlying  both  magic  and 
religion  are  those  of  spirit  and  power."  But  magic  and  religion  early 


ON 


36       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

superstition  forms  of  religion  which  are  manifestly  an- 
tagonistic to  the  welfare  of  the  particular  community 
which  passes  judgment  upon  them.  Religion  in  the 
strictest  sense,  as  sociologically  distinguished  from  magic 
and  superstition,  has  always  been  beliefs  and  practices 
which  the  community  approves.1  The  struggle  for  a  ra- 
tional and  social  religion  in  our  new  world  of  science  and 
of  complex  social  relations  is  still  essentially  to-day  what 
it  has  been  in  the  past:  it  is  a  struggle  to  find  a  religion 
adapted  to  the  requirements  of  present  life. 

But,  again,  it  may  be  said  that  while  religion  has  un- 
questionably been  a  power  in  the  past  social  life  of  man, 
it  is  a  dangerous  power,  seeing  that  it  may  work  for  the 
evil  as  well  as  the  good,  for  reaction  as  well  as  for  prog- 
ress; and  so  is  one  which  civilization  cannot  too  soon  get 
rid  of.  We  no  longer  need  "the  religious  psychosis," 
with  its  tendencies  toward  fanaticism  or  "fixed  ideas"  in 
our  present  humanitarian  civilization.  We  especially  no 
longer  need  it  if  our  social  life  is  to  become  rationalized, 
because  it  is  the  antithesis  of  reason.2  Statements  like 
these,  which  we  hear  so  frequently  to-day,  show  a  strange 
blindness  to  the  actual  facts  of  life,  and  remind  one  of 
that  narrow  "rationalism"  of  the  eighteenth  century  which 
made  man  so  entirely  an  abstract  intellectual  creature. 
j  Men  still  need  help  in  life  as  much  as  in  the  ages  gone 

differentiated,  magic  becoming  mechanical,  impersonal,  individualistic, 
while  religion  became  spiritual,  institutional,  and  congregational  or 
collective. 

1  For  a  different  view  of  magic  see  Leuba,  A  Psychological  Study  of 
Religion,  Part  II,  especially  Chapter  IX. 

'Compare,  e.g.,  Bury's  statement  (Uistnrii  of  Freedom  of  ThouqJit, 
p.  229):  "Religion  is  gradually  becoming  leas  indispensable.  The 
further  we  go  back  in  the  past,  the  more  valuable  is  religion  as  an 
element  in  civilization;  an  we  advance,  it  retreats  more  and  more  into 
the  background,  to  be  replaced  by  science."  For  full  criticism  of  this 
view,  see  pages  59-64  of  this  book. 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  KELIGION     37 

by.  They  do  not  and  cannot  live  by  reason  alone,  as  we 
have  already  pointed  out,  but  need  some  sort  of  faith  in 
unseen  powers,  which  we  term  "religion."  The  end  of 
all  religion  is  in  social  and  personal  salvation,  in  help 
over  the  difficulties  and  redemption  from  the  evils  of  life. 
Like  the  mind  itself,  religion  exists  to  meet  the  needs  of 
life,  and  it  is  essentially  an  adaptive  device  of  life;  like 
reason,  it  exists  in  particular  to  meet  the  needs  of  life  in 
very  complex  situations,  in  "crises,"  where  the  lower 
processes  of  body  and  mind  are  inadequate  to  cope  with 
the  situation.1  Exactly  how  it  does  this  we  shall  see  later. 
It  will  suffice  now  to  point  out  that  religion  braces  vital 
feeling,  that  it  taps  new  levels  of  energy,  and  gives  one 
thus  strength,  as  we  have  seen,  to  perform  deeds  far  be- 
yond what  are  commonly  regarded  as  normal  human 
powers. 

Now,  so  far  as  we  can  see,  the  time  will  never  come 
when  man  will  not  have  need  of  religion  to  release  fully 
his  energies,  to  brace  his  vital  feeling,  and  to  help  him 
face  the  issues  of  life  and  death  with  confidence  in  him- 
self and  in  his  world.  The  dream  which  the  hedonistic 
philosophers  of  the  nineteenth  century  had  of  a  "pleasure 
economy,"  in  which  there  would  be  no  need  of  the  help 
which  religion  can  give,  because  the  difficulties  and  evils 
of  life  would  be  all  overcome,  has  been  rudely  shattered. 
Not  only  has  the  World  War  shown  that  there  is  as  much 
need  of  faith,  loyalty,  and  self-devotion  in  the  world  as 

1  That  religion  is  wholly  a  social  matter,  purely  a  social  product,  as 
Durkheim  apparently  claims  (in  his  Elementary  Forms  of  the  Re- 
ligious Life),  is  a  theory  which  will  not  bear  close  scientific  scrutiny. 
On  the  contrary,  like  reason,  religion  has  both  individual  and  social 
roots  and  manifestations.  A  scientific  view  of  religion  must  be  found 
in  a  synthesis  of  Durkheim's  sociological  view  and  the  psychological 
view,  as  set  forth  for  example  in  James's  Varieties  of  Religious 
Experience.  For  a  criticism  of  Durkheim's  view  see  Webb's  Group 
Theories  of  Religion  and  the  Individual,  especially  Chapters  I-IV. 


38       THE  KECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

ever,  but  a  deeper  understanding  of  the  nature  of  the 
social  life  itself  has  revealed  that,  whether  mankind  is 
at  peace  or  at  war,  this  will  always  be  so. 

The  nature  of  our  social  life,  in  other  words,  is  such 
that  if  progress  is  to  continue  it  demands  constantly 
the  service  and  sacrifice  of  individuals  for  the  good  of 
humanity.1  Each  generation  builds,  as  we  have  seen, 
upon  the  work  of  previous  generations,  and  it  is  only 
through  a  policy  of  social  conservation  and  of  productive, 
efficient  social  service  that  civilization  can  be  preserved 
and  continually  advanced.  In  each  new  generation  the 
increasing  complexity  of  the  social  life  will  call  for 
heroism,  self-devotion,  and  self-sacrifice  for  the  good  of 
humanity  as  in  previous  generations.  Crises  in  life  will 
not  cease  through  human  progress,  nor  will  man  come 
'  to  need  less  the  power  of  self-sacrifice.  The  world  will 
never  cease  to  need,  in  other  words,  clean,  high-minded, 
self-devoted,  self-sacrificing  human  living.  The  "soft" 
view  of  life,  which  was  so  popular  in  the  ease-loving  and 
self-indulgent  pre-war  days,  has  proved  itself  to  be  an 
unworkable  view.  The  hedonistic  utopia  of  a  "pleasure 
economy"  just  ahead,  in  which  no  one  would  have  to  work 
harder,  or  behave  better,  than  he  wanted  to,  is  seen  to  be 
a  chimera.  Men  will  always  need  for  efficient,  worth- 
while human  living,  full  command  of  their  adaptive 
powers;  and  highest  among  these,  standing  side  by  side, 
as  it  were,  yet  often  in  these  later  days  made  strangely 
to  antagonize  each  other,  are  religion  and  reason. 

For  what  is  religion?  Why  do  we  compare  it  as  an 
adaptive  process  in  the  human  mind  to  reasoning  itself? 

1  See  Novicow,  Mechanism  and  Limits  of  Human  Association 
(translation  in  American  Journal  of  Sociology,  November,  1017); 
also  The  Social  /Vofc/rm,  1010  edition,  pp.  273-280,  and  Introduction 
to  Social  Psychology,  pp.  323-328. 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  RELIGION     39 

Let  us  see  what  religion  does,  and  then  we  shall  perhaps 
in  part  understand  it.  But  let  us  first  distinguish  re- 
ligion from  theology  on  the  one  hand  and  ecclesiastical 
organization  on  the  other.  Theologies  are  products  of  re- 
ligion in  interaction  with  man's  reason  and  imagination, 
but  they  are  not  themselves  religion.  Theologies  as  intel- 
lectual attempts  at  the  interpretation  of  religion,  appear 
and  disappear ;  but  religion  remains.  Religions  have  often 
existed  without  any  well  defined  theological  beliefs,  though 
at  other  stages  of  the  evolution  of  religion  theological 
creeds  may  be  the  chief  thing  emphasized.  While  re- 
ligions always  imply  metaphysical  or  theological  beliefs 
of  some  sort,  no  specific  theological  belief  is  an  essential 
part  of  religion.1  While  religion  affirms  and  univer- 
salizes personal  and  social  values,  it  does  so  in  a  practical 
sense  without  necessarily  developing  them  into  theological 
or  metaphysical  dogmas. 

Neither  must  religion  be  confused  with  ecclesiastical 
organization,  that  is,  with  the  church  and  its  ritual.  The 
church  is  the  organized  embodiment,  the  institutional 
expression,  of  religious  life.  It  is  probably  necessary  to 
the  social  expression  of  religion,  but  it  is  not  itself  re- 
ligion. .'  Thus  the  Christian  church,  which  we  ordinarily 
call  historical  Christianity,  must  not  be  confused  with 
Christianity  itself.  t  But  if  religion  is  neither  theology  nor 
ecclesiastical  organization,  what  is  religion  apart  from 
these?  And  what  does  it  do  apart  from  the  creating  of 
theologies  and  ecclesiastical  systems? 

In  the  first  place,  religion  projects  the  essential  values 
of  human  personality  and  of  human  society  into  the  uni- 
verse as  a  whole.  It  inevitably  arises  as  soon  as  man  tries 

1  For  elaboration  and  qualification,  see  pages  45  and  46  and  also 
Chapter  V. 


40       THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

to  take  a  valuing  attitude  toward  his  universe,  no  matter 
how  small  and  mean  that  universe  may  appear  to  him. 
Like  all  the  distinctive  things  in  human  social  and  mental 
life,  it,  of  course,  rests  upon  the  higher  intellectual  powers 
of  man.  Man  is  the  only  religious  animal,  because 
through  his  powers  of  abstract  thought  and  reasoning,  he 
alone  is  self-conscious  in  the  full  sense  of  that  term. 
Hence  he  alone  is  able  to  project  his  values  into  the  uni- 
verse and  finds  necessity  of  so  doing.  Given,  in  other 
words,  the  intellectual  powers  of  man,  the  mind  at  once 
seeks  to  universalize  its  values  as  well  as  its  ideas.  Just 
as  rationalizing  processes  give  man  a  world  of  universal 
ideas,  so  religious  processes  give  man  a  world  of  universal 
values.  The  religious  processes  are,  indeed,  nothing  but 
the  rationalizing  processes  at  work  upon  man's  impulses 
and  emotions  rather  than  upon  his  percepts.  [What  the 
reason  does  for  ideas,  religion  does,  then,  for  the  feelings. 
It  universalizes  1  them ;  and  in  universalizing  them,  it 
brings  them  into  harmony  with  the  whole  of  reality.  For 
the  mind  to  refuse  thus  to  universalize  its  values  is, 
in  a  sense,  very  much  like  the  mind  refusing  to  univer- 
salize its  intellectual  conceptions.  There  has  always  been, 
indeed,  then,  a  close  relation  between  irreligion  and  intel- 
lectual agnosticism,  as  all  the  world  has  long  since  ob- 
served. 

We  are  now  prepared  to  see  more  exactly  wkat  religion 
is  in  psychological  terms.  It  is  primarily  a  valuing  aiti- 
iude,  universalizing  the  will  and  the  emotions  ~  rather  than 

1  So  also  it  "socializes"  them.  The  process  of  "universnlization"  of 
course  includes  the  process  of  "socialization,"  only  the  whole  of 
reality,  including  the  community  of  human  beings,  becomes  the  reality 
to  which  adjustment  is  m:id<>.  Why  the  universe  as  well  as  humanity 
must  always  be  included  in  religious  valuations  is  set  forth  on  page 
46  nnd  also  in  Chapter  V. 

*  This  idea,  that  the  psychological  function  of  religion  is  to  uni- 
versalize the  will  and  the  emotions,  is,  of  course,  a  very  old  one, 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  KELIGION     41 

the  ideas  of  man.  It  thus  harmonizes  man,  on  the  side 
of  will  and  emotion,  with  his  world.  Hence,  it  is  the 
foe  of  pessimism  and  despair.  '""It  encourages  hope,  and 
gives  confidence  in  the  battle  of  life,  to  the  savage  as  well 
as  to  the  civilized  man.  It  does  so,  as  we  have  said, 
because  it  braces  vital  feeling;  and  psychologists  tell  us 
that  the  reason  why  it  braces  vital  feeling  is  because  it  is 
an  adaptive  process  in  which  all  of  the  lower  centers  of 
life  are  brought  to  reinforce  the  higher  centers.  The 
universalization  of  values  means,  in  other  words,  in 
psycho-physical  terms,  that  the  lower  nerve  centers  pour 
their  energies  into  the  higher  nerve  centers,  thus  har- 
monizing and  bringing  to  a  maximum  of  vital  efficiency 
life  on  its  inner  side.  It  is  thus  that  religion  taps  new 
levels  of  energy,  for  meeting  the  crises  of  life,  while  at 
the  same  time  it  brings  about  a  deeper  harmony  between 
the  inner  and  the  outer. 

/t* 

When  we  thus  understand  religion  scientifically  we 
see  that  it  is  as  natural  to  man,  and  almost  as  necessary, 
as  sleeping,  eating,  or  breathing.  But  we  must  qualify 
this  statement  by  saying  that  religion  is  essentially  a  social 
rather  than  an  individual  matter.  £ike  language  it  is 
not  so  much  necessary  for  the  life  of  the  individual  as 
for  the  life  of  society.  This  is  because  the  values  with 
which  it  deals,  which  it  projects  and  universalizes,  are 
not  simply  personal  values;  they  are  social  values.  They 
are  values  in  which  "an  individual  participates  because 
he  is  a  member  of  a  group.  They  are  values,  in  other 
•words,  which  have  been  built  up  through  the  common  life 

going  back  even  to  Greek  and  Hindu  philosophy,  but  it  is  rarely 
found  clearly  stated.  That  the  valuing  attitude  is  the  root  of  all 
religion  is  now  one  of  the  commonplaces  of  religious  psychology. 
Sellars  (The  Next  Step  in  Religion,  p.  7)  even  goes  so  far  as  to 
define  religion  simply  as  "loyalty  to  the  values  of  life." 


42       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

of  a  group  and  transmitted  .by  tradition  from  generation 
to  generation,  because  they  have  to  do  with  the  life  of  the 
group.  Values  and  feelings  have  more  need  to  be  uni- 
versalized on  the  side  of  the  social  environment  than  on 
the  side  of  the  physical  environment.  It  is  one's  human 
world  to  which  one  has  to  adapt  himself  first  of  all;  and 
this  adaptation  is  effected  largely  through  the  feelings 
or  emotions.  Then,  again,  the  life  of  the  group  itself, 
sociology  shows,  is  a  unity.  In  confronting  its  environ- 
ment and  the  many  foes  which  are  often  found  there,  the 
group  must  have  unity  of  feeling,  of  values,  if  it  is  to 
have  unity  of  action,  among  its  members.  The  group  as 
a  whole  needs  not  only  such  inner  harmony  on  the  side 
of  feeling,  but  it  must  command  the  full  energy,  the 
unfailing  devotion,  of  all  of  its  members.  Its  values, 
its  emphasis  upon  the  meaning  of  life,  of  service,  and  of 
sacrifice,  must  be  brought  to  the  individual  in  the  intensest 
way,  with  that  absolute  sanction  which  religion  gives, 
if  it  is  to  command  that  self-effacing  devotion  of  its 
members  in  times  of  crisis.  The  universalization  of  feel- 

!ing  and  will  which  religion  effects  is  necessarily  therefore 
a  universalization  which  includes  first  of  all  the  common 
I  life  which  the  individual  shares  with  his  fellows.  In 
other  words,  it  is  a  "socialization"  of  feeling  and  will.1 
£  The  "second  thing,  then,  which  religion  does  is  to  act 
as  an  agency  of  social  control,  that  is,  of  the  group  con- 
trolling the  life  of  the  individual,  for  what  is  believed 

1  No  writer  lias  worked  out  more  clearly  the  interrelation  of 
religion  and  social  life  than  Professor  Ames  in  his  Psychology  of 
Religious  Experience.  See  especially  Parts  II  and  IV.  His  view  that 
religion  is  "the  consciousness  of  the  highest  social  values"  (p.  VII), 
is  one  of  the  cornerstones  of  the  sociology  of  religion.  See  also  Miss 
Ilanison's  Themis:  A  Study  of  the  Social  Origins  of  Greek  Religion, 
especially  pp.  482-40'J.  "Religion,"  says  Miss  Harrison,  "sums  and 
rmbodies  what  we  feel  together,  what  we  care  for  together,  what  we 
imagine  together." 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  RELIGION     43 

to  be  the  good  of  the  larger  life  of  the  group.  Very 
early,  as  we  have  seen,  any  beliefs  and  practices  which 
gave  expression  to  personal  feelings  or  values  of  which 
the  group  did  not  approve  were  branded  as  "black  magic" 
or  baleful  superstitions;  and  if  this  had  not  been  done 
it  is  evident  that  the  unity  of  the  life  of  the  group  might 
have  become  seriously  impaired.  Thus  the  almost  neces- 
sarily social  character  of  religion  stands  revealed.  \Ve 
cannot  have  such  a  thing  as  purely  personal  or  individual 
religion  which  is  not  at  the  same  time  social.  For  we 
live  a  social  life  and  the  welfare  of  the  group  is,  after  all, 
the  chief  matter  of  concern. 

It  is  evident  that  this  function  of  religion  as  a  means 
of  social  control  over  the  individual  needs  to  increase 
rather  than  decrease  as  social  evolution  advances.  For 
social  life  becomes  more  complex  with  each  succeeding 
stage  of  upward  development,  and  groups  have  more  need 
of  commanding  the  unfailing  Hevotion  of  their  members 
if  they  are  to  maintain  their  unity  and  efficiency  as 
groups.  More  and  more,  therefore,  religion  in  its  evolu- 
tion has  come  to  emphasize  the  self-effacing  devotion  of 
the  individual  to  the  group  in  times  of  crisis.  And  as 
the  complexity  of  social  life  increases,  the  crises  in  which 
the  group  must  ask  the  unfailing  service  and  devotion 
of  its  members  also  increase.  Thus  religion  in  its  upward 
evolution  becomes  increasingly  social,  until  it  finally 
comes  to  throw  supreme  emphasis  upon  the  life  of  service 
and  of  self-sacrifice  for  the  sake  of  service;  and  as  the 
group  expands  from  the  clan  and  the  tribe  to  humanity, 
religion  becomes  less  tribal  and  more  humanitarian, 
until  the  supreme  object  of  the  devotion  which  it  incul- 
cates must  manifestly  be  the  whole  of  humanity. 

Looked  at  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  individual,  in 


44       THE  KECOSTSTKUCTIOjST  OF  KELIGION 

the  third  place,  then,  religion  means  the  consecration  of 
individual  life,  at  first  for  clan  and  tribal  ends,  but 
finally  for  humanitarian  ends.1  This  consecration,  or 
making  "sacred,"  of  life  conserves  the  powers  and  ener- 
gies of  the  individual  for  social  uses.  It  again  unifies 
the  group  and  makes  it  efficient  in  confronting  every 
situation.  We  do  not  mean,  of  course,  that  it  unerringly 
does  so,  because  the  ends  to  which  the  individual  may  be 
asked  to  consecrate  his  life  may  be  mistaken  ends.  The 
values  which  are  socially  sanctioned  may  not  be  the 
highest  values;  they  may  be  false  altogether.  Neverthe- 
less, by  this  consecration  of  life  on  the  part  of  the  indi- 
vidual to  the  ends  or  values  of  which  the  group  approves, 
such  efficiency  as  is  possible  for  the  group  is  attained.  As 
the  social  life  increases  in  complexity  and  expands  from 
the  clan  and  the  tribe  to  humanity,  it  is  evident  that  no 
less  consecration  of  life  on  the  part  of  the  individual  is 
demanded,  but  rather  more.  And  we  may  so  far  antici- 
pate our  conclusion  as  to  point  out  that  when  the  group 
becomes  humanity,  and  social  values  become  scientifically 
determined,  the  consecration  of  individual  life  which 
religion  necessarily  means  may  be  more  cheerfully  given 
by  the  individual;  for  he  will  have  the  satisfaction  of 
knowing  that  such  consecration  is  for  the  highest  pur- 
poses. Thus  becomes  evident,  too,  our  meaning  when  we 
say  that  the  individual  must  become  increasingly  re- 
ligious if  he  is  to  become  increasingly  social.  Comte, 
as  we  have  already  seen,  perceived  this  truth,  though  for 

1  "The  essence  of  religion,"  says  Professor  Cooley,  "is  the  expansion 
of  the  soul  into  the  sense  of  a  Greater  Life;  and  the  way  to  this  is 
through  that  social  expansion  which  is  of  the  same  nature. /One  who 
has  developed  a  spirit  of  loyalty,  service  and  sacrifice  toward  a  social 
group  has  only  to  transform  this  to  a  largor  conception  in  order  to 
have  a  religious  spirit."  (Social  Process,  p.  75.)^ 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  RELIGION     46 

various  reasons  it  has  escaped  the  perception  of  many 
later  sociologists. 

A  fourth  phase  of  religion  stands  revealed  as  we  come 
to  understand  what  religion  does.  Religion,  we  have  said, 
emphasizes  values ;  it  universalizes  them  and  brings  them 
to  the  mind  of  the  individual  in  the  intensest  way.  But 
the  values  which  it  has  come  to  sanction  are  social  values, 
values  which  pertain  to  the  larger  life,  and  finally  to  the 
life  of  all  humanity.  Now  these  mental  and  social  values, 
with  which  religion  deals,  men  call  "spiritual."1  It  is 
something  which  emphasizes,  as  we  may  say,  spiritual 
values,  that  is,  the  values  connected  especially  with  the 
personal  and  social  life.  It  projects  these  values,  as  we 
have  seen,  into  the  universal  reality.  It  gives  man  a 
social  and  moral  conception  of  the  universe,  rather  than 
a  merely  mechanical  one  as  a  theatre  of  the  play  of  blind, 
purposeless  forces.  While  religion  is  not  primarily  ani- 
mistic philosophy,  as  has  often  been  said,  nevertheless 
it  does  project  mind,  spirit,  life,  into  all  things.2  Even 
the  most  primitive  religion  did  this;  for  in  "primitive 
dynamism"  there  was  a  feeling  of  the  psychic,  in  such 
concepts  as  mana  or  manitou.  They  were  closely  con- 
nected with  persons  and  proceeded  from  persons,  or  things 
which  were  viewed  in  an  essentially  personal  way. 
Religion,  therefore,  is  a  belief  in  the  reality  of  spiritual  < 
values*  and  projects  them,  as  we  have  said,  into  the  whole  : 

1  It  will  be  observed  that  we  use  this  word  in  the  broad  or  philo- 
sophical sense,  as  practically  synonymous  with  "psychic,"  not  in  the 
narrow  sense  of  "pertaining  to  spirits." 

*  Using  "animism"  in  this  broad  sense  (for  the  technical  meaning 
of  the  term,  see  page  50),  Carpenter  very  rightly  says    (Pagan  and 
Christian  Creeds,  p.  260)  :  "Animism  is  a  perfectly  sensible,  logical 
and  necessary  attitude  of  the  human  mind."     Compare  McDougall, 
Body  and  Mind. 

•  This  again  is  a  very  old  view  of  religion,  reflected  imperfectly  in 
Tylor's  celebrated  minimum  definition  of  religion,  "Belief  in  spiritual 


46       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

universe.  All  religion — even  so-called  atheistic  reli- 
gions 1 — emphasizes  the  spiritual,  believes  in  its  domi- 
nance, and  looks  to  its  ultimate  triumph.  Materialistic 
and  mechanistic  philosophies,  therefore,  at  least  those 
.  cruder  forms  which  would  deny  altogether  or  explain 
away  the  reality  of  the  spiritual  element,  are  hostile  to 
religion.  They  take  a  negative  attitude  toward  the 
spiritual  element  in  the  universe  and  in  human  life,  and 
therefore  destroy  the  rational  basis  for  that  projection 
into  universal  reality  of  personal  and  social  values  which 
constitutes  the  essence  of  religion.  Religion  from  its 
very  nature  cannot  negate  life  or  mind;  it  cannot  take 
a  negative  attitude  toward  the  universe.  Its  attitude 
is  an  attitude  of  faith,  courage  and  confidence.2  It  em- 
phasizes, therefore,  the  reality  of  spiritual  things;  it  is 
built  up  through  belief  in  the  reality  of  spiritual  life. 
Mere  animistic  philosophy,  to  be  sure,  it  is  not;  for  it 
is  always  primarily  a  valuing  attitude.  But  it  is  an 
affirmation  of  the  reality  of  the  spiritual,  the  mental, 
the  social ;  and  only  in  a  few  cases  has  it  denied  the  reality 
of  the  material  and  the  physical. 

Thus  we  see  that  religion,  springing  as  it  does  from  the 
whole  of  human  nature  and  the  whole  social  life  of  man, 

beings,"  and  implied  in  Eucken's  works,  especially  in  his  Christianity 
and  the  New  Idealism,  Chapter  I.  Leuba  (A  Psychological  Study  of 
Religion,  p.  52)  is  undoubtedly  right  in  contending  that  religion  pre- 
supposes belief  in  personal  or  non-personal  psychic  powers. 

1  For  example,  Buddhism,  Jainism,  and  Comte's  Positivism.  All 
these  religions  manifestly  emphasize  the  reality  and  power  of  the 
spiritual  in  man. 

'"Religion,"  says  Conklin  (The  Direction  of  Human  Evolution, 
p.  102),  "cultivates  faith,  hope  and  love" — at  least,  we  may  add,  when 
it  is  socially  normal.  We  might  add  that  religion  in  its  normal 
aspects  is  a  sort  of  idealization  of  the  life  process — a  kind  of  "cosmic 
optimism,"  so  to  speak.  It  mn-ssarily  includes,  therefore,  "an  im- 
plicit theory  of  tli»>  universe,"  as  Webb  points  out  (in  Group  Theories 
of  Religion  and  the  Individual). 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  RELIGION     47 

is  a  many-sided  phenomenon.  (1)  In  one  aspect  it  is  par- 
ticipation in,  and  imiversalization  of,  the  ideal  values 
of  the  social  life.  (2)  In  another  aspect  it  is  a  form  of 
social  control,  constraining  through  supernatural  sanction 
the  individual  to  conform  his  beliefs  and  actions  to  those 
of  his  group.  (3)  In  another  aspect  it  is  a  consecration  of 
individual  life  and  energies  to  social  ends.  (4)  Finally,  it 
is  an  affirmation  of  the  reality  of  "the  spiritual,"  and  a 
belief  in  its  ultimate  dominance  and  triumph  in  human 
life.  We  may,  perhaps,  accept  as  nearly  synthetizing  the 
truth  in  all  of  these  conceptions  of  religion,  the  state- 
ment that  "religion  is  man's  attitude  toward  the  universe 
regarded  as  a  social  and  ethical  force."  1  Some  attitude 
of  this  sort,  some  religious  attitude,  in  other  words,  is 
necessary  to  every  thinking  man  who  does  not,  ostrich- 
like,  refuse  to  confront  the  reality  in  which  he  lives  and 
moves  and  has  his  being.  But  the  religious  attitude, 
evidently,  must  undergo  many  changes  with  the  develop- 
ment of  man's  mind  and  civilization. 

'A  detailed  study  of  religious  evolution  would,  of  course, 

1  Barton,  The  Religions  of  the  World,  p.  3.  Compare  Caird's 
definition  (The  Evolution  of  Religion,  vol.  I,  p.  30):  "A  man's 
religion  is  the  expression  of  his  ultimate  attitude  to  the  universe, 
the  summed  up  meaning  and  purport  of  his  whole  consciousness  of 
things."  The  synthetic  nature  of  religion  as  a  cultural  complex  is 
what  gives  rise  to  the  many  one-sided  conceptions  of  religion  and  its 
many  various  definitions.  (For  a  brief  survey  of  the  various 
definitions  of  religion,  see  Leuba's  Psychological  Study  of  Religion, 
Appendix.)  It  is  doubtful  if  even  in  its  earliest  beginnings  religion 
can  be  reduced  to  simple  psychological  elements.  From  its  very  start 
it  seems  a  synthesis  (like  so  many  other  cultural  complexes)  of  the 
individual  psychic  and  the  social.  Thus  Carpenter  in  criticizing  the 
view  of  Miss  Harrison  (Themis,  pp.  482-92)  that  religion  is  simply 
the  reflection  of  the  social  conscience  very  rightly  says  (Pagan  and 
Christian  Creeds,  p.  261 )  :  "Religion  has  its  origin  not  only  from 
unity  with  the  Tribe,  but  from  the  sense  of  affiliation  to  Nature." 
This  may  be  implied  even  by  Miss  Harrison  when  she  says  (Themis, 
p.  482)  :  "It  is  not  herd  instinct,  nor  the  collective  conscience,  not 
the  social  imperative  that  constitutes  religion;  it  is  the  emphasis 
and  representation  of  this  collective  conscience." 


48       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

be  necessary  to  reveal  all  of  these  changes  and  the  full 
significance  of  religion  in  human  society.  That  the 
limits  of  this  work  forbid ;  but  some  sort  of  outline  of  the 
changes  in  religion  and  of  the  functioning  of  religion  in 
the  social  life  is  necessary  for  a  clear  understanding  of 
our  subject.  No  one  can  understand  religion,  as  has 
been  well  said,  without  understanding  other  religions 
than  his  own,  any  more  than  one  can  understand  language 
without  understanding  other  languages  than  his  own. 
All  religions  are  vitally  related.1  From  the  most  highly 
developed  to  the  most  lowly  there  are  intellectual  clews 
running  back  which  are  of  the  utmost  value  for  the  under- 
standing of  the  relations  of  religion  to  civilization.  Let 
us  very  briefly  sketch,  therefore,  the  evolution  of  re- 
ligion. 

If  we  take  the  commonly  accepted  seven  stages  of  re- 
ligious evolution,  namely,  pre-animism,  animism,  totem- 
ism,  ancestor  worship,  polytheism,  henotheism,  and  mono- 
theism, it  is  not  difficult  to  see  that  they  not  only  embody 
man's  valuation  of  his  world  but  also  the  social  values 
of  the  age  which  they  represent.  These  seven  stages  are, 
of  course,  in  human  history  not  clearly  delimited.2  They 
overlap  and  even  exist  side  by  side ;  but  they  mark,  logic- 
ally, definite  stages  in  the  evolution  of  the  religious  con- 
sciousness. 

1  See  Marett,  Anthropology,  Chapter  VIII. 

*  The  presentation  of  these  seven  types  of  the  religious  consciousness, 
as  an  evolutional  scries,  has  been  vigorously  criticized  of  late  (see 
Schleiter,  Religion  and  Culture).  In  reality  the  series  is  psycho- 
logical rather  than  chronological.  It  is  easy,  therefore,  to  find  peoples 
low  in  culture  among  whom  several  of  these  types  of  religious  con- 
sciousness exist  alongside  of  one  another  and  more  or  less  confused. 
This  is,  indeed,  the  usual  situation.  There  are  good  psychological 
grounds,  however,  for  believing  that  the  psychological  order  of 
filiation  is  that  hero  presented  though  it  is  impossible  to  present 
inductive  proof  of  this,  as  the  rHigimis  beliefs  of  even  existing 
savages  are  an  indefinite  mixture  of  the  first  three  or  four  types. 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  KELIGION     49 

Thus  anthropologists  tell  us  that  there  is  every  reason 
to  believe  that  the  earliest  and  most  primitive  stage  of 
religion  was  the  stage  in  which  men  simply  believed 
in  the  pervasion  of  nature  everywhere  by  a  mysteri- 
ous wonder-working  energy,  such  as  the  manitou  of  the 
American  Indian  or  the  mana  of  the  Melanesian  Is- 
landers.1 It  was  in  this  stage,  which  may  be  desig- 
nated as  that  of  pre-animism,  or  "manaism,"  that  the 
conception  of  the  "sacred"  or  "divine"  arose.2  This  may 
be  illustrated  by  the  Melanesians'  use  of  the  word  mana. 
This  word  was  used  by  the  Melanesians  to  signify  a  power 
or  influence  not  visible,  and  in  a  way  supernatural,  show- 
ing itself  in  connection  with  both  persons  and  natural 
objects.3  Fear  and  reverence  were  always  attached  to 
any  person  or  thing  which  manifested  mana,  and  thus 
such  persons  or  things  were  "taboo;"4  and  upon  this  idea 
of  taboo  the  whole  conception  of  the  "sacred"  as  a  means 

*Miss  Ivy  G.  Campbell  in  her  study  of  "Manaism"  (American 
Journal  of  Psychology,  January,  1918),  concludes  that  "manaism  as 
well  as  animism  results  from  the  tendency  of  the  human  mind  to 
interpret  things  in  terms  of  its  own  inner  experience."  Manaism,  she 
says,  therefore,  is  not  prior  to  animism  if  animism  equals  "the  read- 
ing of  one's  own  experience  into  other  things."  Dr.  Marett,  however, 
using  the  word  "animism"  in  its  more  exact  sense,  finds  (The 
Threshold  of  Religion)  that  prior  to  animism  proper  there  must  have 
been  a  more  primitive  stage  of  animatism,  that  is  to  say,  "manaism." 
So,  too,  Professor  Boas  says  (Handbook  of  American  Indians)  that 
the  fundamental  concept  of  the  religious  life  is  "the  belief  in  the 
existence  of  magic  power  which  may  influence  the  life  of  man  and 
which  in  turn  may  be  influenced  by  human  activity." 

3  Dr.  Marett  says  (The  Threshold  of  Religion,  Second  Edition, 
p.  XXXIII)  :  "I  do  not  hesitate  to  regard  the  general  notion  exempli- 
fied by  mana  as  the  category  that  most  nearly  expresses  the  essence  of 
rudimentary  religion."  But  he  wisely  adds,  "What  I  would  not  be 
prepared  to  lay  down  dogmatically  or  even  provisionally  is  merely 
that  there  was  a  pre-animistic  era  in  the  history  of  religion  when 
animism  was  not."  See  also  Chapter  I  of  his  book. 

8  Codrington,  The  Melanesians,  p.  118  following. 

*  Marett  rightly  holds  that  "Tabu  is  the  negative  mode  of  the 
supernatural,  to  which  mana  corresponds  as  the  positive  mode."  See 
The  Threshold  of  Religion,  Chapter  IV,  on  "The  Conception  of  Mana." 


5    ,:/    .js^to  A^AJo-    /•  '  *n 

"    *>    .*  -4  c,    **, 


ON 


50       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

of  social  control  seems  to  have  been  built  up.  The  world 
was  filled,  in  other  words,  with  a  mysterious,  wonder- 
working energy  which  was  the  source  of  all  success,  luck,  or 
good  fortune,  and  which  must  be  dealt  with  in  a  certain 
way  in  order  to  insure  these  desirable  effects  both  for 
the  individual  and  for  the  community.  The  American 
Indian  had  much  the  same  conception  in  such  words 
as  manitou 1  and  wcikonda?  and  among  many  other  primi- 
tive peoples  we  find  parallel  conceptions.  Nothing  was 
more  important  for  the  individual  or  the  community 
in  this  stage  than  to  get  into  right  relations  with  this 
mysterious,  wonder-working  power  which  assured  good 
or  bad  fortune.  Hence  already,  though  there  were  no 
"gods,"  the  whole  mental  and  social  machinery  of  re- 
ligion was  at  work  with  respect  to  the  mores  in  the  way 
which  we  have  already  described. 

The  second  stage  of  religion  came  when  this  mysterious, 
wonder-working  power  was  conceived  of  as  a  "double"  or 
a  "spirit"  which  resided  in  men,  animals,  and  things. 
This  stage  is  technically  known  as  "animism"  in  the 
strict  sense.  The  mysterious,  wonder-working  power  was 
conceived  as  able  to  exist  apart  from  the  object  in  which 
it  resided.  Thus  was  born  the  conception  of  the  "soul," 
a  conception  which  was  bound  to  be  reached  by  man's 
power  of  abstraction,  but  which  was  made  easier  through 
man's  reflection  upon  the  experiences  of  his  dream-world.8 
Out  of  the  dualism  of  the  ordinary  and  the  extraordinary, 
the  natural  and  the  supernatural,  grew  the  further  dualism 


1See  the  classical  paper  by  Jones,  The  Algonkin  Manitou,  included 
in  Thomas,  Source  Book  for  Social  Origins,  pp.  683-692. 

*  See   articles,    "Wakonda"    and    also    "Orenda"    in    Handbook    of 
American  Indians. 

*  For  a  brief  critical  discussion  of  animism,  with  a  statement  of 
divergent    theories,    see    Leuba,    Psychological    Study    of    Religion, 
Chapters  IV  and  V. 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  KELIGION     51 

of  the  physical  and  the  spiritual;  and  the  mysterious, 
wonder-working  powers  were  identified  with  the  spiritual 
beings,  the  "souls"  or  "doubles"  of  men,  animals,  and 
things.  A  further  step  in  the  development  of  religion 
is  shown  in  animism,  because  man  more  definitely  inter- 
prets his  world  in  terms  of  himself,  of  his  will,  and  of 
his  values.  This  stage  prepared  religion  to  develop  and 
emphasize  the  subjective  element,  and  to  make  that  the 
chief  element  in  social  control. 

A  third  stage  of  religious  development  was  "totemism," 
in  which  ajiimals  or  plants  became  the  chief  objects  of 
religious  veneration.1  The  totemic  stage  arose  naturally 
fromThe  manaistic  and  the  animistic,  and  marked  a 
broadening  of  man's  knowledge  concerning  his  world.  It 
was  correlated  with  the  hunting  stage  of  economic  devel- 
opment. Man  was  surrounded  by  animals,  he  hunted 
animals,  he  lived  on  animals,  he  thought  in  terms  of  ani- 
mals, and  therefore,  his  main  objects  of  religious  venera- 
tion were  animals.  It  was  the  zoomorphic  stage  of  re- 
ligion.2 The  mysterious,  wonder-working  power  was  the 


1  The  controversy  over  the  relation  of  totemism  to  religion  has  been 
prolonged  and  varied.  Many  writers  (e.g.,  Frazer  in  his  well-known 
work,  Totemism  and  Exogamy,  vol.  IV,  p.  27)  have  denied  that 
totemism  may  be  considered  a  form  of  religion  at  all.  Durkhejm,  on 
the  other  hand,  in  his  Elementary  Forms  of  the  Religious  Life,  Book 
II,  makes  totemism  the  root  or  original  form  of  all  religion  and 
identifies  its  fundamental  concept  with  mana.  The  general  view  of 
anthropologists,  however,  is  that  there  was  a  pre-totemic  stage  in 
which  manaism  and  animism  in  various  forms  existed.  On  the 
relations  of  manaism  and  totemism,  see  Marett,  op.  cit.  p.  20  f.,  and 
the  article  "Totem"  by  Hewitt  in  the  Handbook  of  American  Indiana. 
The  best  brief  study  of  totemism  is  probably  that  by  Professor  A.  A. 
Goldenweiser,  "Totemism:  An  Analytical  Study,"  in  the  Journal  of 
American  Folk  Lore,  vol.  XXIII.  For  an  extended  discussion  of 
totemism  as  a  form  of  religion,  see  Durkheim's  Elementary  Forms  of 
the  Religious  Life,  Book  I,  Chapter  IV,  and  Book  II. 

1  Much  animal  and  plant  worship,  however,  exists  independent  of 
totemism.  For  criticism  of  the  idea  that  totemism  involves  the 
worship  of  the  totemic  animal  or  plant,  see  Durkheim,  op.  cit.  p.  139. 


52       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

animal  or  plant  which  was  regarded  with  religious  rever- 
ence and  conceived  of  as  having  some  mysterious  relation 
to  the  group,  which  usually  bore  its  name.  Kinship  and 
religion  now  become  definitely  allied,  and  hence  we  may 
say  that  this  was  the  first  stage  in  which  religion  came  to 
have  an  organized  control  over  all  the  forms  and  relation- 
ships of  social  life.  Art,  educaton  and  food-getting, 
also,  now  come  under  well-defined  religious  control. 

The  fourth  stage  of  religious  development,  the  hero- 
ancestor-worshipping  stage,  did  not  arise  until  the  patri- 
archal family  and  pastoral  industry,  together  with  the 
power  of  the  war  chief,  emphasized  the  human  element. 
Thus  the  anthropomorphic  stage  of  religious  evolution 
was  reached.1  The  mysterious,  wonder-working  powers 
were  now  conceived  to  be  the  souls  of  departed  heroes  or 
ancestors.  Each  family  had  its  own  gods  and  its  own  do- 
mestic worship.  This  stage  fostered  the  development  of 
the  domestic  virtues,  accordingly,  and  of  the  social  ideals 
derived  from  the  domestic  virtues;  but  it  had  a  great 
drawback  in  that,  by  apotheosizing  the  departed  ancestor, 
it  emphasized  too  much  the  values  of  the  past.  Religion 
took  on  an  ultra-conservative  nature  and  made  possible 
such  static  civilization  as  was,  for  example,  illustrated 

In  Chapters  V-VII  of  Book  II,  Durkheim  criticizes  the  idea  that 
totemism  is  a  development  of  animism.  See  also  W.  W.  Thomas' 
article  on  "Animals"  in  Hastings'  Encyclopedia  of  Religion  and 
Ethics. 

1  That  is,  the  typical  or  developed  anthropomorphism.  Some  degree 
of  anthropomorphism  is,  of  course,  to  be  found  in  the  earlier  stages 
of  religious  development.  Thus  the  attitude  of  the  savage  toward 
his  totem  animal  is  as  personal  as  toward  one  of  his  tribesmen.  Per- 
haps the  groat  significance  of  ancestor  worship  in  religious  and  social 
development  has  never  been  better  stated  than  in  Herbert  Spencer's 
Principles  of  Sociology,  Part  1,  though  Spencer  was  mistaken  in 
supposing  ancestor  worship  to  be  primitive.  The  best  picture  of  an 
ancestor-worshipping  society  is  to  be  found  in  Fustel  de  Coulange's 
Ancient  City. 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  KELIGION     53 

for  centuries  by  the  Chinese.  The  abuses  of  religion, 
from  a  social  point  of  view,  now  begin  to  appear. 

When  small  ancestor-worshipping  groups  were  welded 
into  city-states  or  small  nations,  the  gods  of  the  different 
groups,  who  included  not  only  the  heroic  ancestors  of  the 
past,  but  also  many  nature  spirits  whose  worship  had 
survived  from  animistic  times,  formed  a  "pantheon"  and 
we  have  the  stage  of  religion  which  is  known  as  "poly- 
theism." In  this  stage  there  is  a  classification  of  gods. 
Not  every  blade  of  grass  had  a  god,  but  there  might  be  a 
god  of  the  grass.  Neither  did  every  man  have  a  god, 
but  there  was  a  god  for  practically  every  social  activity 
of  man,  a  god  of  war,  a  god  of  love,  etc.  All  were  highly 
personalized  beings,  and  the  community  of  gods  was  con- 
ceived as  more  or  less  like  the  community  of  men,  though 
often  idealized.  This  stage  "was  really  transitional,  and 
is  marked  by  a  confusion  of  ethical  and  religious  concep- 
tions and  values.  There  was  in  it,  therefore,  the  oppor- 
tunity for  the  sanction  of  all  sorts  of  practices,  and  the 
abuses  of  religion  become  more  manifest,  as  seen,  for  ex- 
ample, in  the  various  practices  of  idolatry. 

Out  of  polytheism  slowly  developed  another  interme- 
diary stage  of  religion  known  as  "henotheism,"  in  which 
one  of  the  gods  of  the  pantheon  was  chosen  by  a  people 
as  its  particular  national  god,  without  their  denying  at 
first,  however,  the  existence  of  other  gods.  Gradually 
the  other  gods  came  to  be  regarded  as  "false  gods"  and 
the  national  god  as  the  true  god.  Most  monotheistic 
peoples  have  passed  through  this  henotheistic  stage,  though 
students  of  religion  have  sometimes  failed  to  recognize  it. 
The  early  Jews,  for  example,  before  the  later  prophets 
were  unquestionably  henotheistic.  ,  This  national  stage 
of  religion  served  greatly  to  unify  peoples  in  strong 
nationalistic  groups.  It  is  a  serious  question  whether 


54       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

our  civilization  is  not  yet  mainly  in  this  stage  of  religion. 
Religion  in  this  stage  is  crudely  anthropomorphic,  and 
the_deity_is ^thought  of  as  ha.Yingjth^_na^onalj^aracter 
o|_^he^£Dple-with._very  definite  humaiLjtraits. 

True  monotheism  is  reached  only  when  the  mind  of  man 
sees  that  there  is  but  one  universal  existence  from  whence 
lall  things,  including  his  own  mind,  have  proceeded  and  of 
|which  they  are  a  part.  Monotheism,  in  other  words,  is 
ithe  recognition  of  the  infinite  as  God,  "the  infinite  and 
eternal  energy  from  which  all  things  proceed  and  to 
which  all  things  return."  Monotheism  itself  has  several 
distinct  phases  or  stages  of  development.  One  of  these, 
deism,  we  have  already  noticed  as  the  crudest  and  most 
popular  form  of  monotheism.  Another,  pantheism,  tends 
to  identify  God  with  the  impersonal  forces  of  the  universe. 
In  our  civilization,  however,  monotheism  has  tended  to 
take  a  more  social  and  spiritual  form,  known  as  ethical 
theism,  and  probably  rightly,  since  mere  "energism"  satis- 
fies neither  the  emotions  nor  the  intelligence  of  man. 
Under  ethical  theism,  idealistic  social  values  have  been 
more  readily  given  a  religious  sanction,  that  is,  univer- 
salized or  projected  into  the  universe,  than  under  any 
other  form  of  religion.  Thus  through  ethical  theism, 
though  it  is  a  form  of  religious  consciousness  to  which  the 
masses  even  in  Christian  lands  have  only  partially  at- 
tained, social  idealism  has  been  stimulated  as  never  be- 
fore in  the  history  of  civilization. 

Now  this  rough  outline  of  the  development  of  religion 
shows  clearly  enough  that  religion  has  evolved  with  the 
social  and  mental  life  of  man;  that  it  is  a  thing  which 
changes  with  the  whole  cultural  complex  which  we  call 
"civilization;"  and  that  changes  in  religion  have  been 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  KELIGION     55 

correlated  Avitli  changes  in  man's  social  and  cultural  life 
in  general.  Clearly  enough,  too,  human  history  has  been, 
from  one  point  of  view,  a  struggle  to  attain  to  a  rational 
and  truly  social  religion — such  a  valuation  of  all  the  ex- 
perience of  life  in  terms  of  the  universe  as  accords  with 
man's  reason  and  yet  intensifies  his  social  values.  Only 
to  an  absolute  skeptic  would  the  great  stages  in  religious 
evolution  appear  other  than  as  steps  in  social  and  cultural 
progress. 

It  is  clear  also  that  through  all  of  its  history  religion 
has  been  a  "control"  over  social  life,  an  instrument  of 
social  adaptation;  and  we  are  now  better  prepared  to 
understand  its  function  in  maintaining  social  order  and 
in  aiding  social  progress.  How  has  it  affected  these  vital 
matters  in  the  social  life  of  humanity  in  the  past,  and 
how  may  it  influence  them  in  the  future?  Let  us  take 
up  first  its  influence  upon  social  order. 

From  the  earliest  ages,  and  through  all  the  revolutions 
of  religion,  its  chief  social  function  has  been  to  support 
the  "mores"  of  the  social  group  in  which  it  has  been 
found.  Strictly  speaking,  all  religions  are  ethical  in  the 
sense  that  they  support  the  customary  morality  of  their 
groups.1  The  inculcation  and  support  of  ethical  ideals,  or 
idealistic  aims,  is  of  course  a  late  development  in  re- 
ligion, but  even  the  most  primitive  religions  support  cus- 
tom. "The  religion  of  a  savage,"  says  Dr.  Marett,  "is 
his  whole  custom  so  far  as  it  appears  sacred."  2  The 
primitive  conception  of  the  "sacred,"  as  we  have  seen, 
was  something  which  was  forbidden,  or  "taboo."  But  the 
thing  which  was  sacred  or  "taboo"  was,  in  reality,  some 

1  Compare  Ames,  Psychology  of  Religious  Experience,  pp.  285-287. 
'Anthropology,  p.  213. 


56       THE  KECONSTKUCTIOlsr  OF  KELIGION 


custom  or  usage  which  the  group  desired  to  maintain ;  a 
anything  which  was  contrary  to  that  custom  was  forbidde 
Thus  the  concept  of  the  sacred  became  attached  to  the 
custom,  or  socially  sanctioned  usage,  itself.  Primitive 
"mores"  thus  became  hedged  around  with  "taboos"  or  with 
positive  religious  sanctions.  Whatever  the  group  found 
to  conduce  to  personal  and  social  safety  came  to  have  the 
sanction  of  religion  attached  to  it.  Now  this  early  con- 
nection between  primitive  morals  and  primitive  religion 
was  not  accidental;  it  was  logically  and  psychologically 
necessary.  (  The  very  conception  of  a  superhuman,  won- 
der-workin  ;  power  in  nature  was  largely  obtained  by  the 
projection  into  nature  of  that  psychic  element  in  experi- 
ence which  the  social  life  had  developed.  The  whole 
world  of  experience  was  thus  made,  so  to"  speak,  socio- 
morphic.  The  wonder-working  powers  to  be  feared  and 
propitiated  were  thus  inevitably  associated  with  the  ac- 
tivities of  the  group.  Those  activities  that  were  success- 
ful, that  were  accompanied  by  good  luck,  were  in  harmony, 
manifestly,  with  the  superhuman  power;  that  is,  they 
had  mana  in  them.  On  the  other  hand,  those  activities 
which  did  not  succeed,  or  were  accompanied  by  ill  luck, 
had  no  mana,  that  is,  were  opposed  to  the  superhuman 
power.  Thus  religious  sanction  came  naturally  to  attach 
itself  to  those  modes  of  conduct  of  which  the  group  ap- 
proved; that  is,  to  those  which  had  been  found  safe  and 
to  conduce  to  group  welfare.  Hence  social  obligations 
became  religious  obligations  even  in  the  lowest  forms  of 
social  life  of  which  we  have  knowledge.  From  their  very 
method  of  development,  therefore,  religious  beliefs  become 
early  entangled  with  moral  standards  and  ideals.  They 
are  built  up  from  social  experience  and  they  function 
toward  social  ends. 

Almost  any  religious  concept  or  belief  will  illustrate 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  KELIGION     57 

this.  Let  us  take,  for  example,  the  concept  of  God.1 
When  we  examine  the  concept  of  God  among  any  people 
we  find  that  invariably  it  is  built  up  from  their  social  ex- 
perience. In  the  earliest  religions  the  gods  are  often 
zoomorphic,  we  have  seen,  because  in  the  hunting  stage 
of  culture  the  experiences  of  the  social  life  lead  to  a  high 
valuation  of  the  shrewdness,  power,  cunning,  and  perhaps, 
the  helpfulness  of  the  animal  which  is  hunted.  At  a  very 
much  later  date  the  concept  of  God  represents  particularly 
some  personal  trait  or  character  which  is  valued  by  the 
group  such  as  the  power  of  the  warrior,  the  wisdom  of  the 
judge,  or  the  magnificence  of  the  monarch.  The  idea 
stands,  in  other  words,  for  the  ideal  of  personal  character 
which  has  come  to  be  peculiarly  appreciated  by  the  group, 
such  as  the  character  of  some  ancestor  or  king.  But  the 
god  is  always  thought  of  as  a  member  of  the  group,  and 
as  in  a  peculiar  way  safeguarding  its  social  life.  The 
values  found  in  the  god-concept,  thus  are  always  derived 
from  social  experiences  of  one  sort  or  another.  As  Pro- 
fessor Ames  says,  "The  growth  and  objectification  of  the 
god  goes  hand  in  hand  with  the  social  experience  and 
achievements  of  the  nation."  2 

This  is  well  illustrated  from  the  religious  history  of 
the  Hebrew  people.  Their  concept  of  Jehovah  gradually 
expanded  from  that  of  a  tribal,  national  god  of  patriarchal 
and  kinglike  character,  who  was  lord  of  the  tribal  host, 
to  that  of  a  universal  deity,  father  of  all  the  nations  of 
the  earth,  possessing  not  only  the  attributes  of  patriarch, 
but  also  those  of  a  social  redeemer  and  savior.  Moreover, 
nearly  all  of  the  values  which  came  to  be  attached  to  the 

1  This  whole  chapter  has  more  or  less  centered  on  the  evolution  of 
the  idea  of  God,  because  this  idea  plays  such  a  prominent  part  in 
religion  that  it  illustrates  well  the  development  and  functioning  of 
the  religious  consciousness  in  general. 

'Op.  cit.  p.  113. 


58       THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

god-concept  among  the  Hebrews,  it  may  be  added,  were 
directly  derived  from  the  social  experiences  of  Hebrew 
family  life.  Jehovah  as  the  father  of  his  people  came  to 
be  thought  of  not  only  as  demanding  obedience  and  service, 
but  as  representing  a  father's  love  and  care,  and  so  as 
becoming  the  redeemer  of  his  people.  Indeed,  the  reason 
for  the  superiority  of  the  religious  conceptions  of  the 
Hebrews  is  not  far  to  seek.  It  was  because  Hebrew  social 
life,  particularly  Hebrew  family  life,  was  of  a  high  type, 
presenting  at  its  best  a  unity  and  harmony  which  was 
scarcely  attained  by  any  other  people  of  antiquity. 

Other  religious  concepts  than  that  of  the  deity  illustrate 
equally  well  the  fact  that  they  are  built  up  from  social 
experiences  and  psychologically  are  projections  of  social 
-values.  The  concept  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  which 
we  find  more  or  less  developed  in  all  religions,  is  simply  an 
indefinite  extension  of  personal  and  social  values.  When 
we  find  a  separation  in  the  life  after  death  of  the  souls 
of  good  and  evil  men,  heaven,  or  the  abode  of  the  righteous, 
is  pictured  as  an  ideal  society,  such  an  ideal  of  course 
as  the  social  life  of  the  people  of  the  time  permits.  Fin- 
ally, the  concepts  of  personal  responsibility  and  of  indi- 
vidual freedom  in  working  out  one's  own  destiny  which 
we  find  so  generally  associated  with  higher  religions  are 
clearly  social  values.  Without  the  inculcation  to  some 
extent  of  the  doctrines  of  personal  freedom  and  respon- 
sibility, orderly  social  groups  can  scarcely  exist.  These 
illustrations  suffice  to  show  that  among  every  people  re- 
ligion is  identified  with  the  most  intimate  and  vital  phases 
of  the  social  life;  that  the  ideal  values  of  each  type  of 
social  development  tend  always  to  religious  expression^ 

But  why  should  social  values  express  themselves  re- 
1  Ames,  Psychology  of  Religious  Experience,  p.  283. 


V. 


(\ 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  KELIGION     59 

ligiously,  it  may  bo  asked  ?  Is  not  the  fact  that  they  are 
social  values,  built  up  from  real  experiences,  sufficient 
sanction  for  them,  without  attaching  to  them  theological 
or  mythological  notions?  This  latter  form  of  the  ques- 
tion indicates,  of  course,  a  misunderstanding;  for  a  re- 
ligious sanction  given  to  social  values,  does  not  necessarily 
imply  the  attachment  to  them  of  definite  theological  no- 
tions— it  only  implies  that  they  are  made  universal,  and, 
as  it  were,  absolute.  We  have,  accordingly,  already  an- 
swered the  question  why  social  values  need  the  sanction 
of  religion.  It  is  because  religion  universalizes  them  and 
presents  them  to  the  mind  of  the  individual  as  absolute 
values.  Just  as  we  cannot  and  do  not  act  upon  intellectual 
concepts  without  universalizing  them,  so  the  most  funda- 
mental social  values'tnust  be  universalized  and  made  abso- 
lute, as  it  were,  for  the  mind  of  the  group  before  they  will 
be  acted  upon  with  that  unanimity  which  social  order 
and  solidarity  demand.  Of  course  it  does  not  matter  if 
minor  social  values  are  not  thus  universalized,  because 
variations  in  minor  details  of  conduct  are  usually  of  no 
great  importance  to  group  life.  But  the  fundamental, 
intimate,  vital  values  of  the  social  life  must  be  brought 
to  individual  consciousness  in  the  intensest  way,  that  is, 
they  must  be  given  religious  expression,  and  so  univer- 
salized, if  the  group  is  to  preserve  its  harmony,  efficiency, 
and  capacity  to  survive  as  a  group. 

To  put  the  matter  negatively,  a  religionless  world  would 
be  one  in  which  there  were  no  absolute  values.  Values 
would  thus  tend  to  become  individualized  and  be  at  the 
,  whim  and  the  caprice  of  the  individual.  But  human 
societies  cannot  exist  upon  such  a  basis  of  the  Absolute 
individualization  of  values.  Certain  values  the  group 
must  have  generally  accepted  to  preserve  its  integrity  at 
all.  Such,  for  example,  are  the  values  connected  with  life, 


60       THE  KECONSTKUCTIOJST  OF  KELIGION 

with  endurance  and  suffering,  with  loyalty  to  group  in- 
terests, with  good  will  among  the  members  of  the  group, 
with  mutual  service,  and  with  mutual  sacrifice  for  the 
sake  of  mutual  aid.  Men  everywhere,  have  to  confront 
their  world  with  hope  and  courage,  and  faith,  on  the  one 
hand,  and  with  loyalty,  good  will,  and  devotion  to  their 
fellows,  upon  the  other  hand,  if  human  life  is  to  be  lived 
together  successfully.  Now  religion  by  universalizing 
these  values  gives  a  fuller  meaning  to  life,  encourages 
hope,  strengthens  endurance  and  suffering,  intensifies 
loyalty  to  the  ideals  of  the  group,  prevents  pessimism, 
despair,  and  degeneracy.  Thus  it  increases  stability  of 
character  in  the  individual  which,  in  turn,  makes  for 
harmonious  as  well  as  stable  relations  among  individuals. 
A  religionless  social  world  would  be  a  social  world  of  un- 
certainties, destitute  of  enthusiasm,  and  of  vision,  reduced 
to  the  dead  level  of  individual  expediency.  It  would  be 
a  social  world  in  which  neither  harmony  nor  good  will 
could  long  prevail.1 

This  is  not  to  say,  of  course,  that  morality  of  a  high 
type  cannot  exist,  in  civilized  human  society,  in  non-re- 
ligious individuals.  That  is  possible,  because  morality 
is  so  largely  a  thing  of  habit  and  of  custom ;  a  non-religious 
individual  living  in  a  society  which  universalizes  its  social 
values  might  exemplify  the  moral  ideals  of  his  group  in 
the  fullest  degree  simply  through  customary  imitation 
and  the  power  of  personal  habit.2  But  to  admit  the  pos- 
sibility of  such  highly  moral  individuals  who  are  genuinely 

1  Following  another  line  of  reasoning,  Professor  Conklin  in  The 
Direction  of  Human  Evolution  reaches  substantially  the  same  con- 
clusion, p.  168:  "We  shall  never  outgrow  our  need  of  religion,  as 
we  shall  never  outgrow  our  need  of  government  and  science." 

'Ames,  however,  contends  (op.  cit.  p.  359  f.)  even  that  genuinely 
non-religious  persons  are  always  laeking  in  the  sense  of  ideal  values 
which  constitutes  the  social  conscience. 

,<  l^Ji^  >    "  '        r  ^ 
f.     +1  *  *    -•"' 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  RELIGION      61 

non-religious  in  a  social  life  pervaded  by  high  ethical 
standards  is  no  proof  that  we  can  have  whole  civilizations 
highly  moral  and  at  the  same  time  genuinely  non-re- 
ligious. A  religionless  civilization  presents  an  entirely 
different  problem  from  a  religionless  individual.  Such 
a  civilization  has  never  existed  in  the  world  and  the 
reason  should  now  be  obvious  why  it  cannot  exist. 

Let  us  look  a  little  more  intimately,  however,  at  the 
nature  of  human  civilization  and  why  it  presupposes  re- 
ligion for  its  development.  The  most  careful  studies 
of  anthropologists  and  sociologists  have  shown  that  every 
civilization  develops  about  certain  "pattern  ideas"  or 
dominant  social  values.  This  is  true  even  of  the  material 
aspects  of  life  so  far  as  they  become  rationalized  and  cul- 
tural. Thus  in  the  making  of  stone  implements  we  find 
primitive  man  following  out  a  certain  pattern  and  perfect- 
ing it  until  he  comes  to  the  point  where  he  develops  an- 
other pattern  and  perfects  that,  and  so  on.  Thus  civilized 
human  society  has  been  built  up  very  much  like  the  great 
mechanical  inventions  of  the  present  time,  say,  for  exam- 
ple, the  steam  engine.  Without  some  "pattern  ideas"  in 
the  mind  to  follow,  manifestly  the  steam  engine  could  not 
have  been  perfected.  So,  too,  social  organization  and  re- 
lationships have  largely  developed  in  the  same  way,  upon 
the  basis,  of  course,  of  the  instinctive  ends  and  needs  of 
men. 

Thus,  even  in  the  most  primitive  times  men  apparently 
reflected  upon  their  habits  or  ways  of  living  with  one 
another  and  approved  of  some  and  disapproved  of  others. 
Those  usages  or  habits  which  were  approved  of  and  con- 
nected with  the  idea  of  the  welfare  of  the  group  became 
the  "mores,"  or  customs,  of  the  group.  Thus  certain 
pattern  ideas,  as  regards  social  relationships,  certain  social 


62       THE  BECONSTBUCTION  OF  BELIGION 

values,  became  connected  with  the  social  life  of  the  group. 
These  were  gradually  perfected  and  systematized  so  that 
out  of  them  social  institutions  arose.  But  the  "mores," 
as  we  have  seen,  were  imbedded  in  religious  feelings  and 
beliefs,  that  is,  they  became  absolute  social  values,  with  a 
superhuman  sanction  attached  to  them.  Without  such 
a  sanction  these  pattern  ideas  and  social  values,  at  least 
in  so  far  as  they  concerned  a  supersensible  world,  would 
never  have  been  copied  by  generation  after  generation. 
The  "mores"  would  have  broken  down  and  social  discon- 
tinuity would  have  resulted.  Thus  the  social  significance 
of  religion  has  been,  in  the  past,  in  the  support  which  it 
has  given,  in  all  stages  of  human  culture,  to  custom,  moral 
standards,  and  moral  ideals.  It  is  easy  enough  to  say 
theoretically  that  morality  is  something  separate  and  dis- 
tinct from  religion,  but  practically,  they  have  always 
gone  hand  in  hand. 

But  it  may  be  asked  if  science  cannot  take  the  place 
of  religion  in  giving  a  "relatively  absolute"  or  universal 
character  to  the  social  values  or  "pattern  ideas"  which  we 
must  follow  for  the  development  of  our  culture.  It  has 
done  so  in  the  material  realm,  where  now  we  ask  no 
further  test  of  the  value  of  an  ideal  than  its  practical 
utility.  Why  can  it  not  do  so  in  the  social  realm  ?  The 
reply  is  that  the  higher  social  values  have  a  different 
character  from  these  material  values.  They  cannot  be 
tested  even  by  the  experience  of  a  single  generation  to  say 
nothing  of  the  experience  of  a  single  individual.  The 
social  sciences,  therefore,  cannot  furnish  the  same  test  to 
the  individual  mind  of  their  values  as  the  physical  sciences. 
Take  the  value  of  "good  will,"  for  example.  It  is  evident 
that  the  individual  in  his  experience  may  find  it  of  very 
limited  validity.  Again,  if  we  take  such  a  value  as 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  RELIGION      63 

"self-sacrifice,"  even  to  the  point  of  death,  for  the  sake  of 
one's  country,  or  of  humanity,  it  is  evident  that  the  indi- 
vidual can  find  no  such  validity  in  such  an  action  as  he 
would  in  adapting  means  to  ends  in  physical  nature.  The 
social  world  is,  if  we  may  be  allowed  to  use  the  expression, 
a  world  of  transcendental *  values,  a  world  of  supersensi- 
ble things  and  relations.  Science  alone,  accordingly,  can 
never  give  to  social  values,  in  the  mind  of  the  individual, 
that  universal  and  absolute  character  which  they  need  to 
possess;  or  rather,  it  can  do  so  only  in  proportion  as  it 
transforms  itself,  as  Comte  said,  into  religion. ,  It  is  thus 
that  social  science  instead  of  becoming  a  substitute  for, 
and  displacing  religion,  leads  to  the  perception  of  its 
value;  for  it  finds  no  other  way  of  making  absolute  and 
unquestioned  the  fundamental  values  of  our  social  life 
than  through  religion. 

Civilization,  however,  as  we  have  seen,  must  be  ac- 
quired by  each  generation.  Its  values  have  to  be  learned 
by  each  individual  as  he  comes  on  to  the  stage  of  life. 
From  the  nature  of  these  values,  as  we  have  just  seen, 
they  cannot  be  adequately  tested  by  the  experience  of  the 
individual.  They  must  rather  be  accepted  by  him  as 
coming  from  a  source  whose  validity  transcends  even  that 
of  his  own  experience ;  that  is,  they  must  be  taken  up  by 
him  from  "the  social  mind,"  the  store  of  ideas  and  values 
by  which  men  have  learned  to  regulate  their  conduct.  But 
to  learn  such  values  thoroughly  and  to  make  them  more 
powerful  to  regulate  conduct  than  the  sensuous  experi- 
ences of  life  means  that  such  moral  values  must  have 
a  religious  sanction  attached  to  them  or  else  they  will  fail 
effectively  to  control  conduct.  Thus  the  "mores"  of  our 
age,  not  less  than  of  previous  ages,  need  the  support  of 

1  We  use  the  word  to  mean  "transcending  the  experience  of  the 
individual." 


64       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

religion.     Idealistic  social  morality  without  any  religion 
sanction,  so  far  as  social  science  can  see,  is  an  impossible 
dream ;  and  the  more  complex  our  social  life  becomes,  de- 
manding more  complex  and  difficult  adjustments  on  the 
part  of  the  individual,  the  more  impossible  a  high  social 
morality  without  a  correspondingly  high   social  religion 
becomes.     The  death  of  religion  would  accordingly  mea 
the  death  of  all  higher  civilization. 


n 

• 


The  social  need  and  the  social  power  of  religion  are  now 
manifest.  Let  us,  however,  reiterate  what  we  have  al- 
ready said  about  the  possibility  of  religion  becoming  a 
reactionary  rather  than  a  progressive  force,  a  support  for 
the  evil  in  the  social  life  rather  than  for  the  good.  The 
religious  problem  is  not  simply  the  problem  of  the  main- 
tenance of  religion  in  human  Ife.  For  reasons,  which 
we  have  already  seen,  probably  there  is  no  such  problem 
as  that;  for  if  we  do  not  have  a  rational  and  ethical  re- 
ligion, the  mind  of  man  is  such,  we  have  seen,  that  we 
are  bound  to  have  irrational  and  unethical  religion — if  not 
a  religion  of  social  progress,  then  a  religion  of  social  re- 
trogression and  barbarism.  Religion  may  become  at- 
tached to  any  of  the  mores  of  society,  to  any  human 
institution,  to  any  social  order,  no  matter  how  barbarous 
it  may  be ;  and  when  religious  sanction  has  become  attached 
^to  any  social  value  it  is  more  difficult  to  change  that  value. 
r  Civilization  might  die  from  a  barbarous  or  reactionary 
religion  as  well  as  from  lack  of  religion.  Hence  the 
real  religious  problem  of  our  society  is  to  secure  the  gen- 
eral acceptance  of  a  religion  adapted  to  the  requirements 
of  continuous  progress  toward  an  ideal  society,  consisting 
of  all  humanity. 

In  part,  the  backward  tendency  of  religion,  when  it 
manifests  itself,  comes  from  its  necessary  function  as  a 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  RELIGION      65 

conservator  of  social  values.  It. is  a  means,  as  we  have 
m*n,  of  conserving  customs  and  habits  which  have  been 
"found  to  be  safe  by  the  group,  or  which  are  believed  to 
conduce  to  group  welfare.  It  surrounds  itself,  accord- 
ingly, with  prohibitions  and  "taboos"  of  actions  of  which 
the  group,  or  its  dominant  class,  disapproves.  It  lends 
itself  easily,  therefore,  to  maintaining  a  given  social 
order  longer  than  that  order  is  necessary  or  even  after  it 
has  become  a  stumbling  block  to  progress.  For  the  same 
reason  religion  is  easily  exploited  by  a  dominant  class 
in  their  own  interests.  It  is  in  this  way  that  religion 
has  often  become  an  impediment  to  progress  and  an  instru- 
ment of  class  oppression.  It  is  thus,  also,  that  it  has 
raised  up  enemies  for  itself  who  see  nothing  in  it  but 
its  negative  and  conservative  side.  Writers  of  strong  anti- 
religious  bias  emphasize  this  negative  and  conservative 
aspect  of  religion,  but  it  is~not  infrequently  emphasized 
overmuch  by  the  friends  of  religion. 

Now,  however  important  the  socially  conservative  nature 
of  religion  may  be ;  whether  it  be,  as  one  writer  declares, 
a  reaction  against  social  degeneracy;  or  as  another  writer 
says,  "the  force  of  social  gravitation  that  holds  the  social 
world  in  its  orbit,"  it  is  a  mistake  to  think  of  religion 
mainly  as  negative  and  conservative  in  our  social  life. 
In  a  static  society,  which  emphasizes  prohibitions  and  the 
conservation  of  mere  habit,  religion  will  also,  of  course, 
emphasize  the  same  things;  but  there  is  no  necessity  that 
it  should  do  this.  In  a  progressive  society  religion  can  as 
easily  attach  its  sanctions  to  conduct  and  to  ideals  which 
are  progressive  as  to  those  which  are  static.  In  other 
words,  religion  can  as  easily  attach  its  sanctions  to  social 
ideals  beyond  the  existing  order  of  things  a"s  to  the  exist- 
ing order.  Such  an  idealistic  religion  will,  however, 


66       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

have  the  disadvantage  of  appealing  mainly  to  the  pro 
sive  and  idealizing  tendencies  of  human  nature  rather 
than  to  its  conservative  and  reactionary  tendencies.  A 
socially  progressive  religion,  to  find  "wide  following  and 
acceptance,  presupposes  a  high  development  of  intelligence 
in  the  mass  of  individuals.  This  is  doubtless  the  reason 
why  progressive  religions  are  exceedingly  rare  in  human 
history,  taking  it  as  a  whole,  and  have  appeared  only  in 
the  later  stages  of  cultural  evolution. 

Nevertheless  there  is  an  intimate  connection  between 
social  idealism  and  the  higher  religions.  These  religions 
have,  for  the  most  part,  gotten  their  ideals  from  the 
family  life;  and  sociology  shows  that  social  and  moral 
ideals  in  general  have  come  from  the  primary  forms  of 
association,  such  as  the  family.1  Social  idealism  is  an 
attempt  to  realize  in  the  wider  social  life  (that  is,  the 
life  of  classes,  nations  and  races)  these  primary  ideals 
which  are  gotten  from  primary  groups ;  the  higher  ethical 
religions  got  their  ideals  from  the  same  source  and  have 
the  same  aim.  They  are,  therefore,  but  manifestations 
of  social  idealism  imbedded  in  religious  feeling  and  ac- 
companied by  more  or  less  formal  religious  sanctions. 

In  the  higher  stages  of  cultural  revolution,  then,  re- 
ligion comes  to  reinforce  and  sanction  social  progress. 
Setting  its  seal  of  approval  upon  an  ideal  social  life  not 
yet  realized,  it  gives  to  such  a  "pattern  idea"  a  force  and 
power  which  it  could  get  in  no  other  way.  Religion  thus 
becomes  a  powerful  social  dynamic  and  an  instrument 
of  progressive  social  order.  It  sets  up  a  "utopia"  which 
gives  a  goal  and  a  meaning  for  the  whole  social  life.  If 
this  utopia  is  in  nationalistic  terms  it  of  course  powerfully 
reinforces  the  national  spirit.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  the 

1  See  Chapter  VII. 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  KELIGION      67 

ntopia  is  in  humanitarian  terms  it  reinforces  the  humani- 
tarian trend  of  civilization.1  Thus  the  goal  sanctioned 
by  religion  may  become  a  powerful  social  dynamic,  trans- 
forming in  time  the  whole  social  life. 

It  is  a  matter  of  supreme  importance,  therefore,  in  our 
social  life  to  see  that  religion  sanctions  right  social  ends. 
It  is  only  a  religion  which  stimulates  a  humanity-wide 
altruism  in  the  individual  which  is  adequate  as  a  founda- 
tion for  social  progress.  Through  humanitarian  religion, 
a  religion  which  stimulates  such  a  humanity-wide  altruism, 
quite  evidently  class,  tribal  and  national  ethics  can  be 
transcended  and  replaced  by  humanitarian  ethics. 

It  may  be  said,  of  course,  that  humanitarian  ethics 
does  not  need  humanitarian  religion,  but  all  human  ex- 
perience opposes  such  a  conclusion,  and  we  have  seen 
reasons  why  this  must  be  so.  Indeed,  humanitarian  ethics 
demands  more  in  the  way  of  self -sacrifice  from  the  indi- 
vidual than  class,  tribal,  or  national  ethics.  It  makes, 
in  other  words,  the  least  appeal  of  any  system  of  morality 
to  the  natural  egoism  of  the  individual,  because  it  con- 
cerns the  largest  possible  human  group,  having  to  do  with 
the  welfare  of  many  individuals  of  whose  existence  the 
average  individual  knows  nothing  directly  through  experi- 
ence, and  concerning  whose  welfare  he  can  have  tangible 
ideas  only  through  the  exercise  of  the  liveliest  imagination. 
//  humanitarian  ethics  is  to  succeed  in  overcoming  the 
conflicts  between  classes,  nations,  and  races,  which  are 
now  tearing  asunder  our  world,  it  must  have  the  support 
of  a  religion  of  humanity.2 

xBy  humanitarianism,  we  mean,  following  Hobhouse  (Morals  in 
Evolution,  Vol.  II,  p.  249),  the  doctrine  which  "makes  the  furtherance 
of  the  collective  life  of  humanity  the  supreme  object  of  endeavor." 
Hence  similar  meaning  attaches  to  the  phrases  humanitarian  re- 
ligion, humanitarian  ethics,  humanitarian  civilization,  etc. 

a  It  is  just  because  religion  supports,  develops  and  completes  ethics 
that  developed  religion,  as  Hobhouse  says  (Morals  in  Evolution,  Vol. 


03       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

Many  religions  have,  of  course,  approached  the  humani- 
tarian viewpoint  or  developed  humanitarian  principles 
as  incidental  to  their  main  teachings.  Thus  the  great 
purpose  of  Buddhism  is  undoubtedly  to  put  an  end  to 
human  sorrow  and  suffering.  To  this  end  it  not  only 
counsels  the  avoidance  of  inflicting  all  pain  or  suffering 
upon  living  creatures,  and  pity,  gentleness,  and  charity  in 
all  human  relations,  but  also  the  cessation  of  all  striving 
and  desire  on  the  part  of  the  individual  in  order  that  the 
incidental  suffering  may  be  escaped.  Buddhism  is,  in 
brief,  a  doctrine  not  only  of  selflessness,  but  of  quietism. 
At  first  glance  it  would  seem  to  be  supremely  humani- 
tarian, and  it  has  often  been  thus  represented.  But  its 
humanitarianism  is  negative  rather  than  positive.  Ita 
negative  attitude  toward  life  prevents  it  from  developing 
a  positive  doctrine  of  the  development  of  humanity.  It 
seeks  escape  from  life  and  its  evils  rather  than  the  devel- 
opment of  life  through  mastery  over  its  conditions.  Pas- 
sivity rather  than  activity  is  its  goal.  Its  humanitarian- 
ism  resembles  closely  the  spurious  humanitarianism  of  the 
present  day  "which  regards  all  suffering  as  evil.  The  final 
judgment  of  science  concerning  Buddhism,  despite  its 
noble  qualities,  can  only  be  that  it  is  fundamentally  non- 
social  in  its  ideals  and  hence  that  it  fails  to  furnish  the 
religious  values  and  ideals  needed  for  a  progressive  civili- 
zation. 

Mohammedanism,  also,  in  some  of  its  later  develop- 
ments, especially  in  Bahaism,1  has  shown  a  strong  humani- 
tarian trend.  But  Mohammedanism,  so  far  as  it  has 
raised  itself  above  Semitic  paganism,  is  based  on  Judaism 

II,  p.  255),  has  its  firmest  root  in  ethics,  and  that  "Ethics  becomes 
the  test  to  which  religion  must  submit."     (Ibid.,  p.  252.) 

1  Bahaism  in  its  origin  was  an  offshoot  of  Mohammedanism,  though 
many  Bahaists  in  America  regard  themselves  as  Christians.  See 
article,  "Bab,  Babism,"  in  Hastings'  Encyclopedia. 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  KELIGION      69 

and  Christianity.  It  was  the  religion  of  the  later  Hebrew 
prophets,  which  furnished  the  enduring  base  upon  which 
has  been  built  whatever  is  worthy  in  Christianity,  Moham- 
medanism, and  later  Judaism.  In  the  teachings  of  these 
men  are  found  the  first  faint  beginnings  of  that  positive 
humanitarian  religion  and  ethics  which  has  become  the 
hope  of  the  world.  It  was  not  until  Christianity  burst  the 
shell  of  Jewish  nationalism,  however,  and  became  an 
international  religion,  that  the  movement  to  supplant  the 
tribal  and  predatory  traditions  of  the  ancient  world  by  a 
tradition  of  universal  peace,  good  will,  mutual  aid,  and 
brotherhood  among  men  may  be  said  to  have  been  fairly 
launched. 

If  what  has  been  said  in  the  preceding  paragraph  is 
correct,  it  is  evident  that  the  main  stream  of  religious 
evolution  must  be  sought  in  ancient  Judaism  and  Christi- 
anity. That  this  is  so,  and  the  scientific  reasons  for  it, 
we  shall  endeavor  to  set  forth  in  the  next  chapter.  For 
to  understand  the  full  social  significance  of  religon,  we 
must  understand  the  social  meaning  of  the  Christian 
movement  in  particular. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE    SOCIAL    SIGNIFICANCE    OF    CHRISTIANITY 

THE  second  thing  to  be  considered  in  the  reconstruc- 
tionoT  religion  is  the  social  significance  of  Christianity, 
in  the  sense  of  the  religion  of  Jesus/  We  must  strive  to 
gain  an  insight  into  its  place  and  meaning  in  social  evo- 
lution. No  historical  movement  has  been  more  misunder- 
stood, alike  by  friend  and  foe,  than  Christianity.  This 
is  largely  because  of  the  lack  of  sociological  and  anthro- 
pological perspective  and  knowledge.  Only  the  densest 
sociological  ignorance  would  suppose  that  the  Christian 
movement  is  an  accident  in  human  history.1  On  the  con- 
trary, like  its  political  counterpart  (the  movement  toward 
democracy),  it  is  of  the  very  essence  of  later  social  and 
cultural  evolution.  It  is  an  integral  part  of  the  historical 
process,  an  essential  factor  in  social  evolution.  To  under- 
stand what  it  means  we  must  try  to  get  a  view  of  the  move- 
ment of  human  history  as  a  whole,  as  it  is  pictured  to  us 
by  modern  science. 


'Anthropologists  tell  us  that  the  whole  culture  history 
of  man  may  be  roughly  divided  into  three  stages — sav- 

1  Says  Professor  Case,  in  his  valuable  work  on  The  Evolution  of 
Early  Christianity  (p.  25)  :  "Christianity  can  be  ultimately  and  com- 
prehensively conceived  only  in  the  developmental  sense,  as  the  product 
of  actual  persons  working  out  their  religious  problems  in  immediate 
contact  with  their  several  worlds  of  reality." 

70 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  CHRISTIANITY      71 

agery,  barbarism,  and  civilization.1  Savagery,  in  which 
man  is  a  mere  child  of  nature,  living  off  of  the  wild 
fruits  of  the  earth  and  the  animals  that  he  can  kill  and 
eat,  making  no  attempt  to  control  his  own  destiny,  lasted 
for  the  race  at  least  one  hundred  thousand  years,  archae- 
ological evidence  shows,  while  some  belated  human  groups 
still  survive  in  that  state.  Barbarism,  a  traditional  stage, 
in  which  man  begins  to  cultivate  the  soil  and  raise  domestic 
animals,  but  soon  turns  his  attention  to  preying  upon  his 
fellowmen  as  an  easier  method  of  gaining  a  livelihood  than 
the  mastering  of  nature,  began  in  Europe  about  eight  or 
ten  thousand  years  ago  with  the  coming  of  neolithic  man. 
Militancy  and  predatoriness  were  the  chief  social  traits 

1  This  narrower  use  of  the  term  "civilization"  to  designate  a  par- 
ticular stage  of  culture,  namely,  beginning  with  the  keeping  of 
historic  records,  as  it  is  common  both  in  ordinary  and  scientific 
language,  should  not  confuse  the  reader.  See  definition  of  culture 
and  civilization  in  the  broad  sense  on  p.  12.  Some  authorities  would 
designate  that  part- of  civilization  which  begins  with  universal  literacy 
or  education  as  the  "stage  of  enlightenment."  But  there  seems  no 
good  reason  why  it  should  not  be  regarded  as  a  phase  of  civilization. 
The  author,  therefore,  has  preferred  to  keep  the  term  "civilization" 
for  the  entire  stage  of  cultural  evolution  which  is  characterized  by 
control  over  the  social  tradition,  dividing  it  into  "semi-civilization" 
(beginning  with  the  invention  of  writing)  and  "true  or  developed 
civilization"  (beginning  with  universal  education).  The  reader  needs 
hardly  to  be  warned  that  stages  of  culture  are  not  sharply  defined, 
that  they  overlap,  and  vary  greatly  in  the  different  peoples. 

A  different  classification  of  the  stages  of  human  culture  (or  mental 
and  social  development)  is  proposed  by  Edward  Carpenter  in  his 
Pagan  and  Christian  Creeds:  Their  Origin  and  Meaning:  namely,  the 
stages  ( 1 )  of  Simple  Consciousness,  when  man's  consciousness  is  still 
animal-like;  (2)  of  Self-Consciousness,  which  began  in  the  barbarism 
of  Neolithic  times,  and  in  which  man  consciously  makes  self  the 
center  of  interest,  and  (3)  of  Universal  Consciousness,  a  stage  just 
beginning,  in  which  self  will  no  longer  be  the  center,  but  humanity 
and  the  universe.  This  classification,  while  suggestive,  seems  to  be 
based  upon  the  fallacy  of  regarding  "self-consciousness"  as  synony- 
mous with  self-interest  or  selfishness.  Man  will  probably  grow  mere 
self-conscious,  but  also  more  "social"  or  "altruistic."  In  any  case, 
true  Christianity  (despite  what  Carpenter  says  to  the  contrary) 
might  be  regarded  as  marking  the  beginning  of  the  third  stage, 
"Universal  Consciousness." 


72       THE  KEOONSTBUCTION  OF  KELIGIOtf 

of  barbarism,  and  these  in  turn  grew  out  of  a  narrow 
"group  morality"  and  a  limited  "consciousness  of  kind." 
Civilization,  in  the  strict  sense,  only  began  with  the  keep- 
ing of  historic  records,  "with  man's  coming  to  social  self- 
consciousness,  and  with  his  beginning  of  the  control  and 
conquest  of  the  mental  or  spiritual  element  in  his  life. 
This  stage  of  human  history  is,  then,  a  thing  of  yester- 
day— only  in  its  beginnings,  not  more  than  four  or  five 
thousand  years  old  for  any  people,  and  scarcely  two  thou- 
sand years  old  for  most  Europeans.  We  began  to  out- 
grow barbarism,  in  other  words,  but  yesterday,  and  it 
should  not  be  surprising  that  many  of  the  traditions  of 
barbarism  still  survive  among  us.  Complete  civilization 
will  arrive  with  the  full  socialization  of  man. 

To  the  sociological  imagination  this  development  of 
human  culture  presents  itself  as  a  parabola,  with  human 
experience  as  the  chief  element  at  its  focus.  The  lower 
part  of  the  curve  may  be  taken  as  representing  the  not 
less  than  one  hundred  thousand  years  of  savagery,  of 
brute-like  ignorance  and  subjection  to  the  blind  forces  of 
nature,  through  which  the  race  has  passed.  The  upper 
part  of  the  curve  may  be  taken  as  the  one  hundred  thou- 
sand years  or  more  of  civilization,  of  mastery  over  phy- 
sical nature,  and  human  nature,  which,  we  may  hope, 
lies  ahead  of  our  race.  The  remaining  or  vertical  part 
of  the  curve  will  then  represent  that  transitional  stage  of 
barbarism  through  which  our  race  has  passed  on  its  way 
from  animality  to  spirituality,  from  ignorance  to  knowl- 
edge, from  the  darkness  of  savagery  to  the  light  of  civili- 
zation. We  might  rep7  3sent  this  graphically  by  the  fol- 
lowing diagram : * 

1  This  diagram,  like  1  praphieal  representations  in  the  social 
sciences,  mu*t  not,  of  nirse,  bo  taken  too  seriously.  It  is  only  a 
rough,  convenient  mep  "»f  representing  an  idea.  If  the  curve  were 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  CHKISTIANITY     73 

Evidently  we  arc  now  just  entering  upon  the  upper 
part  of  the  curve,  with  the  real  work  and  higher  achieve- 
ments of  true  civilization  still  lying  all  ahead  of  us. 


MENTION  Of  WRITING  -> 


LEVEL  OF  CONTROL  Otfff  THE  PSYCWC 


THE  CURVE  OF  HUMAN  CULTURE. 

The  typical  institutions  of  barbarism,  or  predatory  cul- 
ture, still  survive,  or  but  lately  existed  among  us.  Yes- 
terday we  had  slavery,  and  even  to-day  we  are  only  trying 


drawn  accurately  it  would  be  very  irregular,  as  human  history  pro- 
ceeds by  the  "trial  and  error  method,"  a  succession  of  "ups"  and 
"downs,"  advances  and  regressions,  with  progress  resulting  as  a 
whole,  hitherto.  An  entirely  different  graph  from  the  parabola  might, 
of  course,  be  used  to  represent  the  general  movement.  Curiously 
enough,  the  parabola  was  selected  by  Henry  Adams  (The  Degradation 
of  the  Democratic  Dogma,  p.  302)  to  illustrate  pessimistic  conclusions 
which  were  based  upon  his  attempt  to  trace  physical  laws  in  social 
movements.  No  such  analogy  with  the  physical  is  here  implied.  On 
the  contrary,  human  history,  as  a  process  of  learning  through  "trial 
and  error,"  is  essentially  a  psychological  process.  See  my  /**-/i- 
duction  to  Social  Psychology. 


rvAT 


.74       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

to  rid  ourselves  of  polygamy,  autocracy,  militarism,  class 
exploitation,  and  the  debaucheries  of  barbarous  self-indul- 
gence. £  We  are  still  slowly  and  painfully  learning  the 
rudiments  of  true  civilization. 


Let  us  recall  again  the  method  of  cultural  evolution 
and  the  importance  of  "pattern  ideas,"  or  "ideals,"  in  the 
social  life,  this  time  not  in  the  way  of  maintaining  social 
order,  but  rather  in  furthering  social  progress.  The  tran- 
sition from  lower  to  higher  stages  of  civilization,  anthro- 
pologists tell  us,  is  intermediated  by  the  formation  of  "pat- 
tern ideas,"  or  "ideals."  1  By  the  principle  of  anticipation 
these  ideas  are  often  formed  far  in  advance  of  the  com- 
plete birth  of  the  new  civilization.^  The  human  mind 
jSees  the  need  or  the  advantage,  sets  up  an  "ideal,"  a  "pat- 
tern" of  the  thing  to  be  realized,  and  then  by  various 
methods  works  towards  its  goal.  Thus  long  before  men 
invented  the  flying  machine  they  formed  the  idea  of  the 
flying  machine.  Then  they  watched  the  flight  of  birds 
and  other  animals  and  studied  the  properties  of  physical 
nature  until  they  found  methods  of  realizing  their  idea 
or  ideal  of  the  flying  machine.  Thousands  nf  such  illus- 
trations might  be  given.  All  of  the  important  things  in 
human  culture,  then,  exist  first  as  "pattern  ideas"  in  the 
minds  of  men  before  they  are  realized  in  actual  life;  and 
they  exist,  as  a  rule,  long  before  they  are  realized. 

"Now  this  principle  applies  to  the  great  changes  in  re- 
ligion and  morals,  and  so  in  civilization  itself,  not  less 
than  in  the  realm  of  mechanical  invention.  Such 
changes  come  through  the  starting  of  new  pattern  ideas 
or  standards  in  the  minds  of  men.  These  are  reflected 
upon  by  the  popular  mind,  and  if  accepted  and  approved 

1  See  an  article  by  the  author  on  "Theories  of  Cultural  Evolution" 
in  American  Journal  of  Sociology,  May,  1918,  Vol.  XXIII,  pp.  779-800. 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  CHRISTIANITY     75 

they  become  the  "mores/'  the  all-powerful  standards,  of 
a  new  culture.  But  the  pattern  ideas  or  standards  of  a 
new  culture  do  not  arise  gradually  out  of  those  of  the 
old  culture  or  mix,  in  general,  harmoniously  with  them. 
They  arise  suddenly  as  new  inventions,  new  perceptions 
on  the  part  of  social  leaders,  and  cultural  evolution  pro- 
ceeds by  one  type  entirely  supplanting  another  type. 
Thus  the  standards  of  the  predatory  type  of  culture  known 
as  barbarism  must  be  completely  supplanted  by  entirely 
different  standards  before  we  can  have  true  civilization. 
Nevertheless,  the  ideals  and  standards  of  an  older  type  of 
culture  may  persist  for  an  indefinite  time  alongside  of 
those  of  a  new,  while  the  new  type  is  emerging.  Thus 
arise  conflicts  between  the  old  and  the  new;  and  this  ex- 
plains in  large  measure  the  great  moral  conflicts  in  our 
human  world.  They  are  conflicts  between  old  and  new 
cultural  patterns.  As  the  ideas  and  standards  of  pre- 
datory culture  were  thousands  of  years  dominant  in  our 
traditions,  we  must  expect  them  to  manifest  themselves 
at  times  in  their  old  power  in  the  earlier  stages  ol  a  non- 
predatory  civilization. 

Since  the  patterns  of  a  new  culture  concern  human  re- 
lations they  demand  more  than  mere  intellectual  assent. 
They  must  become  social  values  with  compelling  social 
sanctions.  They  need  accordingly  a  decided  emotional 
setting  in  order  to  overcome  the  native  egoism  of  the  in- 
dividual, since  the  break  with  old  habits  and  the  entering 
upon  a  new  and  higher  form  of  social  organization  entails 
sacrifices  in  many  cases.  This  emotional  setting  the  new 
cultural  patterns  get  through  the  sanction  of  religion,  in 
accordance  with  the  principles  which  we  have  discussed 
in  the  preceding  chapter.  Hence  a  revolutionary  change 
in  human  culture,  if  it  is  a  social  advance,  is  always  pre- 
ceded or  accompanied  by  a  religious  reformation  or  re- 


76       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

rival.  The  social  significance  of  religious  reformations, 
with  their  revival  of  intense  religious  emotions,  is  that 
they  smooth  the  way  for  the.  acceptance  of  new  cultural 
patterns  or  social  ideals.  Thus  the  Protestant  Reforma- 
tion prepared  the  way  for  the  individual  freedom  of  the 
modern  world.  The  Methodist  movement  among  English- 
speaking  peoples  again  undoubtedly  was  a  forerunner  of 
nineteenth  century  democracy  in  Britain  and  America. 
But  with  those  greater  revolutions  in  culture  which  con- 
cern the  most  fundamental  patterns  and  ideals  of  social 
life,  a  much  greater  religious  movement  is  needed,  more 
extended  in  time  and  more  revolutionary  in  character. 
Religion  functions,  as  we  have  seen,  to  meet  the  crises  of 
life,  and  no  crisis  in  social  evolution  exceeds  that  of  the 
transition  from  one  type  of  culture  to  another.  World 
religions  arise  to  mediate  these  transitions.1  The  adapta- 
tion of  human  society  to  a  universal  non-predatory  type 
of  culture  would  necessarily  require  a  new  religion  of 
international,  humanitarian  character  to  broaden  man's 
consciousness  of  kind. 

What  Christianity  is,  from  an  anthropological  and 
sociological  point  of  view,  should  now  be  evident.  /'  Chris- 
tianity is  a  new  set  of  "pattern  ideas,"  marking  the  dawn 
of  a  new  type  of  culture,  a  culture  with  a  non-predatory 
morality  on  a  humanitarian  basis.  It  is  an  effort  to 

1  The  historical  conditions  surrounding  the  origin  of  new  world 
religions  are  not  fully  known,  but  in  every  case  they  seem  to  be 
those  of  great  cultural  change.  This  was  especially  true  of  Chris- 
tianity. Those  who  are  familiar,  with  the  social  conditions  of  the 
early  first  century  in  Judea  and  in  the  Greco- Roman  world  generally 
tell  us  that  there  was  a  peculiar  "ripeness"  in  these  conditions  for 
just  such  a  social  and  cultural  change  as  early  Christianity  at- 
tempted. A  part  of  the  conditions  under  which  Christianity  originated 
are  vividly  described  by  Simkhovitch  in  his  Toward  the  Under- 
standing of  Jesus. 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  CHRISTIANITY     77 

transcend  predatory  individual,  class,  tribal,  and  national 
ethics  and  to  replace  these  with  a  universalized,  social,  in- 
ternational, humanitarian  ethics.  The  beginnings  of  this 
movement  are,  of  course,  to  be  found  in  the  many  pre- 
cursors of  Jesus,  and  especially  in  the  later  Jewish 
prophets.  But  in  the  life  and  teachings  of  Jesus  these 
ideas  first  came  to  effective  expression.  He  initiated  the 
revolution  in  religious  and  moral  ideas  for  which  the 
whole  of  human  history  had  been  preparing. 

Only  misunderstanding  of  human  history  and  of  the 
nature  of  religion  could  lead  to  the  supposition  that  the 
Christian  movement  marks  merely  a  stage  in  the  evolu- 
tion of  man's  theological  beliefs.^Christianity  apparently 
started  as  a  protest  against  Jewish  formalism  and  par- 
ticularism. But  as  such  a  protest,  it  had  to  develop  the 
spiritual  and  universal  side  of  Judaism,  already  more  or 
less  explicit  in  the  teachings  of  its  later  prophets.  In 
Jesus  we  find  the  supreme  development  of  this  prophetic 
Judaism  with  its  trend  toward  ethical  and  religious  uni- 
versalism.  Premising  the  supreme  value  of  human  per- 
sonality, his  clear  teaching  was  that  the  only  possible  way 
to  serve  God  is  thrmigh  the  service  of  men,  no  matter  what 
their  condition,  occupation,  or  nationality  might  be.  Thus 
he  revolutionized  both  religion  and  ethics  in  humanizing 
both.  The  humanitarian  impulse  of  the  time,  accord- 
ingly, attached  itself  to  Christianity,  which  became  an 
idealistic  social  movement  .in  the  Greco-Roman  world  to 
supplant  its  predatory  traditions  by  new  ideals  of  peace, 

1  Early  Christianity,  Case  tells  us  (op.  cit.  Chapter  I),  cannot  be 
conceived  primarily  as  "an  abstract  quantity  of  doctrine,  ethics,  or 
ritual."  Rather  it  was  "a  new  religious  awakening,"  which  had  its 
origin  in  "an  outburst  of  spiritual  energy  on  the  part  of  Jesus  and 
his  followers,  striving  after  new  and  richer  attainments  under  the 
stimuli  of  a  new  and  more  suggestive  environment."  (p.  28.) 


78       THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGIOK 

good  will,  mutual  aid,  and  brotherhood  among  men.1 
The  distinctive  note  of  Christianity  was  "redemption" 
— not  simply  of  the  individual  but  of  the  world.  For  it 
looked  to  the  establishment  of  a  social  order  in  which  the 
divine  will  should  be  realized — a  kingdom  of  God — an 
order  which  should  make  of  humanity  one  large  family 
with  peace,  justice,  and  good  will  among  all  its  members. 
But  this  new  social  order  was  to  be  established  not  by 

1  In  an  article  in  the  American  Journal  of  Theology,  January,  1918, 
on  "Primitive  Christianity  an  Idealistic  Social  Movement,"  Prof. 
C.  W.  Votaw,  of  the  University  of  Chicago,  summarizes  the  socially 
idealistic  aspects  of  primitive  Christianity  as  follows: 

1.  Its   comprehensive   and   supreme   principle   was   love   of   man 
toward  man — brotherliness  in  feeling,  action,  and  thought. 

2.  It  inculcated  the  sacrifice  of  self  for  the  good  of  others. 

3.  It  made  the  common  welfare  the  chief  aim  of  life. 

4.  It  sought  to  establish  consideration  and  justice  in  the  social 
relations  of  men. 

5.  It  aimed  to  diminish  the  valuation  and  to  check  the  pursuit  of 
material  things. 

6.  It  sought  to  control  and  suppress  sex  immorality. 

7.  It  elevated  the  marriage  ideal  and  practice. 

8.  It  forbade  envy  and  strife,  fraud  and  theft,  drunkenness  and 
reveling. 

9.  It  condemned  pride,  ostentation,  and  hypocrisy. 

10.  It  censured  the  self-complacency,  arrogance,  and  selfishness  of 
the  better  class. 

11.  It  placed  the  social  duties  above  the  ritual  duties,  right  con- 
duct and  character  above  worship  and  ordinance. 

12.  It  interpreted  the  will  of  God  in  the  direction  of  reasonable 
living. 

13.  It  made  the  individual  free,  autonomous,  responsible. 

14.  It  rebuked  legalism  in  law  and  in  social  administration. 

1,5.     It  sought  to  prevent  the  domination  of  the  weak  by  the  strong. 

16.  It  opposed  the  use  of  force  to  accomplish  social  ends. 

17.  It  undertook  to  replace  the  law  and  practice  of  retribution, 
i.  e.,  revenge,  retaliation,  by  the  principle  of  returning  good  for  evil 
and  overcoming  evil  with  good. 

18.  It  created  so  high  and  free  a  conception  of  the  right  social 
relations  as  to  disaffect  the  Christians  toward  the  Roman  Government. 

19.  It  developed  local  groups  of  persons  throughout  the  Empire 
bound  together  religiously  and  socially  in  close  fellowship. 

20.  It  unified   Orientals  and  Occidentals  in  a  real   brotherhood, 
surmounting  the  barriers  of  race  antipathy  and  national  alignment. 

21.  It  brought  together  on  a  common  plane  the  rich  and  the  poor, 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  CHKISTIANTTY     79 

force  or  by  authority,  but  by  a  new  life  within  the  indi- 
vidual soul — a  life  redeemed  from  sin  and  in  harmony 
with  the  divine  will.  Christianity  *  was  thus  not  so  much 
a  mere  "reform"  movement  in  the  external  social  order 
as  a  movement  directed  at  a  "revolution  in  culture,"  a 
complete  change  in  the  "mores."  From  the  first  it  was  so 
recognized  and  fought  by  the  champions  and  defenders  of 
the  older  order  in  which  it  originated.2 

the  educated  and  the  ignorant,  the  prominent  and  the  obscure,  the 
master  and  the  slave. 

22.  It  welded  new  social  bonds,  detaching  people  from  previous 
groups  and  associations  and  uniting  them  on  a  higher  basis. 

23.  It  founded  a  solid,  permanent  social  organization  within  the 
Roman  Empire  that  was  to  survive  the  latter's  decline  and  fall. 

24.  It  made  life  idealistic,  hopeful,  joyful  and  courageous. 

25.  It  assured  men  of  eternal  welfare  and  a  perfect  social  order 
in  an  imminent  new  age. 

1  The  use  of  "Christianity"  at  times  as  a  convenient  term  for  the 
Christian  movement — the  movement  to  establish  the  religion  of  Jesus 
— will,  it  is  hoped,  cause  no*  confusion  to  the  reader,  as  the  context 
will  indicate  the  meaning. 

3  With  penetrating  clearness  a  scientific  educationist  has  thus 
recently  characterized  the  primitive  Christian  movement:  "The 
Christian  movement  in  its  primitive  aspects  represents  a  distinct 
resurgence  of  life  from  its  natural  depths  and  sources,  whatever  those 
sources  may  be.  It  is  of  the  nature  of  a  genuine  impulse — life,  energy, 
feeling,  emotion,  purpose  welling  up  from  within,  out  of  the  indi- 
vidual, out  of  man,  out  of  the  universe,  overflowing  the  conventional 
channels  of  life  and  daring  to  live  in  ways  that  are  not  permitted 
by  a  machine-made  age  or  civilization.  ...  It  is  the  denial  of  the 
finality  of  a  fixed  and  mechanical  social  order.  It  is  the  hope  of  a 
social  order  based  on  the  inner  and  spiritual  life  and  needs  of  society, 
an  order  in  which  the  individual  may  find  his  own  personal  freedom, 
as  a  member  of  a  social  fellowship.  It  gives  the  direct  challenge  to 
all  forms  of  intellectualisms,  practicalisms,  legalisms,  literalisms,  and 
militarisms.  Plato  had  said,  'The  world  is  made  of  ideas';  Jesus 
said,  'Build  your  world  out  of  love  and  service  and  sympathy.' 
Roman  militarism  had  said,  'Buttress  your  liberties  with  forts, 
arsenals,  and  legions  of  soldiers';  Jesus  said,  'The  truth  alone  can 
make  you  free.7  The  Scribes  and  Pharisees  had  said,  'Cursed  is  the 
man  that  knows  not  the  law';  Jesus  said,  'Love  is  the  fulfillment  of 
all  law.'  In  place  of  the  philosopher,  the  moralist,  or  the  soldier, 
Jesus  sets  up  a  little  child  and  says,  'Of  such  is  the  real  social  order 
of  the  future  to  be  made.'  In  all  these  things  the  founder  of  this 
movement  seems  to  be  saying:  'Man  is  a  part  of  the  creative  energy 
of  the  universe;  he  shall  create  his  own  moral  order,  his  own  spiritual 


80       THE  KECONSTEUCTION  OF  EELIGIO^ 

•      But  why  did  such  a  movement  originate  in  Judea? 

•-.Why  did  it  spring  up  within  the  confines  of  Judaism? 
Doubtless  somewhat  must  be  attributed  to  the  fact  that  in 
Judea  the  cultures  of  the  Occident  and  the  Orient  met, 
and  that  there  was  the  point  where  new  cultural  ideals, 
or  "patterns"  embodying  the  best  in  both,  could  be  most 
easily  developed.  The  sociological  principle  of  the  "cross- 
fertilization  of  cultures"  comes  in  here.  Social  develop- 
ments in  the  Greco-Roman  world,  especially  Stoicism  and 
increasing  cosmopolitan  practices,  had  done  much  to  pre- 
pare the  way  for  humanitarian  ideas  and  ideals  in  religion 
and  ethics.  At  the  same  time  similar  movements  were 
starting  in  the  Orient.  That  these  should  have  come  to 
focus  in  Judea  is  what  we  should  scientifically  expect 
when  we  clearly  understand  the  nature  of  Judaism.1 

universe  in  which  to  live.'  .  .  .  All  the  way  through  the  teaching 
of  primitive  Christianity  the  implication  is  plain  that  there  is  quite 
as  much  need  of  the  salvation  of  institutions  as  of  the  salvation 
of  individuals." — Joseph  K.  Hart  in  Democracy  in  Education, 
pp.  121-124. 

Thus  Dr.  Hart  finds  an  implication  of  that  "social  statesmanship" 
in  early  Christianity  which  some  have  denied  as  existing  there.  In 
later  chapters  he  explains  fully  ho\r  in  the  succeeding  centuries 
Christianity  was  socially  and  politically  "sterilized." 

It  will  be  noted  that  both  Votaw,  a  student  of  the  New  Testament, 
and  Hart,  a  student  of  social  and  cultural  conditions,  agree  with  the 
writer  that  the  early  Christian  movement  aimed  at  a  "revolution  in 
culture,"  though  this  has  often  been  denied  by  theologians.  This  is 
also  the  view  of  Simkhovitch. 

For  discussion  of  the  social  conception  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  see 
page  176  in  Chapter  VI. 

1  The  amount  of  Greek  and  Hindu  (or  other  Oriental)  influences 
shown  in  Jesus's  teachings  has  often  been  debated.  It  is  sufficient 
for  our  purposes,  perhaps,  to  note  that  while  Jesus  lived  at  a  "cross- 
roads" of  culture  which  was  open  to  world-wide  influences,  yet  hig 
main  teachings  were  undoubtedly  a  clear  development  of  those  of  the 
later  Jewish  prophets.  It  will  be  well  to  remember  also  that  the 
Jews  themselves  had  lived  for  centuries  at  this  cross-roads  of  culture; 
that  they  had  had  much  contact  with  other  peoples.  Through  fully 
one  thousand  years  of  Semitic  civilization  (Jerusalem  already  at 
1500  B.  C.,  archcDology  shows,  was  an  important  military  stronghold 
and  commercial  center)  they  had  accumulated  much  experience  and 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  CHRISTIANITY     81 

For  the  deeper  reason  for  the  development  of  Chris- 
tianity in  Judea  was  the  nature  of  ancient  Judaism.  Un- 
like many  ancient  religions  it  had  not  wandered  off,  so  to 
speak,  into  religious  by-paths,  but  had  kept  close  to  the 
main  line  of  religious  evolution  as  the  development  and 
spiritualization  of  social  ideals  and  values.  Psycho^ 
logically  Judaism  was  an  idealization  and  projection  or, 
the  values  connected  with  the  family  life.  All  the  re-1 
ligious  and  ethical  concepts  of  Judaism  were  based  upon) 
the  family.  All  of  the  phraseology  of  the  later  prophets 
especially  was  borrowed  from  the  domestic  and  social  life. 
In  other  words,  the  ancient  Jews  had  kept  a  relatively  V  , 
unspoiled  family  life  as  the  center  of  their  social  life, 
and  from  the  fraternity  and  idealism  of  this  "primary 
group"  had  derived  their  religious  and  ethical  concepts  < 
and  ideals.  NowHsocfology  shows  that  tlie  original  source 
of  social  idealism  is  in  the  social  experiences  in  the  "pri- 
mary groups,"  especially  the  family  and  the  neighbor- 
hood.1 All  human  history  is  in  one  sense  a  struggle  to 
take  the  fraternity  and  democracy  realized  in  these  groups, 
when  at  their  best,  and  make  them  humanity-wide.  Thus 
Judaism  in  its  development  represented  the  main  trend 
of  religious  and  social  evolution,  and  it  only  needed  to 
break  the  shell  of  nationalistic  particularism,  as  we  have 
said,  to  become  a  universal  and  humanitarian  religion. 

It  was  the  work  of  Jesus  to  broaden  thus  the  religious 
tradition  and  to  point  it  to  its  final  goal.  Whatever  view 
one  may  take  of  his  personality,  all  must  admit  that  the 
Christian  movement  received  its  initial  form  and  impulse  ' '  , 

were  able  to  profit  from  the  mistakes  of  themselves  and  other  peoples 
in  religious  matters,  as  their  prophets  insist.  All  of  this  fitted  them 
to  be  the  chief  bearers  and  refiners  of  the  religious  tradition  in  the 
ancient  world. 

Cooley,  Social  Organization,  Chapters  III  and  IV. 


82       THE  KECONSTRUCTIOJST  OF  RELIGION 

from  him.1  It  was  his  creative  personality  which  finally 
focused  all  the  idealistic  trends  in  the  religious  and  moral 
life  of  the  time,  and  hrought  them  to  the  white  heat  of 
a  new  religion.  This  again  accords  with  scientific  socio- 
logical  principles;  for  sociology  has  shown  that  —  the 
creative  influence  of  personality  is  necessary  in  all  human 
achievement,  and  that  all  human  progress  is  achievement.2 
Masterful  personal  leadership  is  a  necessary  element, 
therefore,  in  every  great  social  movement  toward  a  higher 
plane  of  civilization  ;  and  the  personality  of  Jesus  fur- 
nished, and  has  continued  to  furnish,  such  leadership  for 
the  religious  and  moral  revolution  which  Christianity  seeks 
to  effect.  £Jesus_  was  not  an  accident  in  human  history,! 
nor  is  the  recognition  of  his  continued  leadership  of  the 
Christian  movement  an  accident. 

/"We  must  not  look  at  early  Christianity,  however,  as 
anything  more  than  a  beginning.  It  has  been  wrongly 
regarded  by  most  Christians  as  marking  the  completion 
and  perfection  of  religion  and  morality.^}  But  Christianity 
can  be  this  only  when  the  Christian  movement  has 
achieved  its  final  development,  and  has  succeeded  in 
establishing  a  humanitarian  civilization,  a  Christian 
state  of  society.  Christianity  is  not  a  static  thing.  To 
regard  Jesus  himself  as  standing  other  than  at  the  be- 
ginning of  a  great  new  movement  in  human  culture  is  to 
misunderstand  him  culturally  and  historically.4  Even  the 


1  A  critical  discussion  will  be  found  in  Chapter  V,  pp.  145-149.  **" 

*  See  The  Social  Problem,  p.  71,  also  Introduction  to  Social  Psy- 
chology, pp.  159-161;  219-220. 

*  See  Case,  The  Evolution  of  Early  Christianity,  Chapter  I.    This  is 
not   saying,   of   course,   that   Jesus   did   not   enunciate   certain   final 
principles  in  religion  and  ethics.     The  whole  argument  of  this  book 
is  in  one  sense  an  attempt  to  show  that  Jesus  did. 

*  Compare  the  words  of  Eucken  in  answering  the  question  raised 
in  the  title  of  his  book,  Can  M'c  Still  lie  Christians?    "We  not  only 
can  but  must  be  Christians  —  only,  however,  on  the  condition  that 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  CHRISTIANITY     83 

words  of  Jesus,  though  they  be  together  with  his  life  the 
touchstone  of  the  Christian  spirit,  mark  only  the  begin- 
ning of  the  unfolding  of  a  new  conception  of  human  re- 
lationships, a  social  life,  non-predatory  in  character  and 
patterned  upon  the  ideals  of  good  will,  mutual  service, 
and  brotherhood  among  men. 

Christianity  started,  then,  as  a  religion  of  love  and  of 
human  service,  and  its  permanent  successes  have  largely 
come  through  its  having  this  character.  Even  though  the 
world  was  not  ready  to  receive  and  to  carry  out  its  prin- 
ciples, and  though  its  followers  soon  distorted  them  be- 
yond description,  vetimpartiality  must  lead  us  to  acknowl- 
edge that  it_starteor  as  ari  idealistic  social  movement  in 
tEe  Greco-Roman^ world,  marking  the  dawn  of  a  religion 
of  humanity.  Moreover,  it  is  only  fair  to  add  that  through 
all  the  centuries  the  best  representatives  of  Christianity 
have  always  held  to  the  idealistic  social  point  of  view. 
The  place  of  Christianity  in  the  evolution  of  religion  and 
its  social  significance  accordingly  is  clear.  We  have  said 
that  it  is  an  endeavor  to  transcend  tribal  and  national 
religion  and  ethics  by  a  religion  of  the  love  and  service 
of  humanity  as  a  whole.  ^In  other  words,  it  is  an  endeavor 
to  establish  a  world-wide^  ideal  human  society,  in  which 
justice  and  good  will  shall  be  realized,  upon  a  religious 
basis.  Its  aim,  as  has  been  well  said,  is  nothing  less"  than 
the  creation  of  aa  new  world."  x 

Christianity  be  recognized  as  a  progressive  historic  movement  still 
in  the  making,  that  it  be  shaken  free  from  the  numbing  influence  of 
ecclesiasticism  and  placed  upon  a  broader  foundation."  (p.  218.) 

1 A  totally  different  view  of  Christianity  is,  of  course,  presented 
by  the  German  theologians.  Their  views  may  be  found  best  summed 
up  in  Schweitzer's  The  Quest  of  the  Historical  Jesus.  According  to 
this  view,  the  teaching  of  Jesus  was  eschatological  and  did  not  con- 
cern this  world.  This  eschatological  view  of  the  teachings  of  Jesus 
will  be  discussed  further  in  Chapters  V  and  VI,  but  it  may  be  pointed 


^   Iu3 


84       THE  KECONSTKUCTIOX  OF  KELIGION 

The  "Enthusiasm  of  Humanity,"  then,  as  Sir  J.  K. 
Seeley  said  in  his  Ecce  Homo — one  of  the  first  books  to 
interpret  rightly  the  religion  of  Jesus — is  the  center  and 
core  of  Christianity.  Love  was  the  characteristic  virtue 
of  the  new  religion,  but  love  socially  directed,  the  love  of 
God  being  expressed  and  measured  in  terms  of  the  love  of 
man.  Religious  faith  and  enthusiasm  were  to  release  the 
energies  of  men  and  make  them  free  to  huild  the  divine 
society — the  "Kingdom  of  God" — in  which  a  redeemed 
humanity  was  to  be  realized.  But  before  this  could  be 
done  the  bondage  of  the  human  soul  to  sin  and  selfishness, 
to  cynical  indifference  and  unbelief,  must  end ;  man  must 
become  reconciled  to  God  as  Father  and  dedicated  to  his 
cause  and  kingdom.  But  Jesus  did  not  conceive  that  this 
Utopia  could  be  created  merely  by  changes  in  individual 
aouls  without  moral  conflicts  in  the  external  social  order. 
On  the  contrary,  the  Christian  life  was  to  be  a  continual 
strife  against  the  forces  of  evil,  not  only  against  those 
within,  but  also  against  the  wickedness  entrenched  in  the 
social  order  and  maintained  by  those  in  authority.  The 
Christian  life  was  to  have  its  militant  side,  though  its 
weapons  were  not  carnal.  This  was  necessarily  so,  for, 
as  Seeley  says,  "The  Enthusiasm  of  Humanity  creates  an 
intolerant  anger  against  all  who  do  wrong  to  human 
beings,  an  impatience  of  selfish  enjoyment,  a  vindictive 
enmity  to  tyrants  and  oppressors,  a  bitterness  against 
sophistry,  superstition,  self-complacent  heartless  specula- 
out  here  that  It  was  quite  natural  that  such  a  view  should  grow  up 
in  Germany  (especially)  where  for  a  long  time  any  attempt  to  apply 
humanitarian  ideals  was  regarded  with  disfavor  by  authorities  in 
both  church  and  state.  It  may  also  he  proper  to  remark  here  that 
the  central  principle  of  Jesus— the  love  and  service  of  man — becomes 
quite  unintelligible  (to  a  plain  man)  if  he  meant  his  teaching  to  be 
primarily  "eicnatologlcal.  The  whole  trend  of  Gorman  theology, 
indeed,  seems  at  bottom  to  be  hostile  to  the  social  conception  of 
Christianity.  Compare  Thomns,  Ifclirfion — Its.  Prophets  and  False 
Prophets,  especially  p.  VIII  and  Chapteri  VI-VHI. 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  CHKISTIANITY      85 

tion,  an  irreconcilable  hostility  to  every  form  of  impos- 
ture, such  as  the  uninspired  inhumane  soul  could  never 
entertain." 

But  if  this  is  the  social  meaning  and  aim  of  Chris- 
tianity, why,  it  may  be  asked,  has  historical  Christianity 
accomplished  so  little  during  all  the  centuries  to  establish 
justice  and  good  will  among  men?  The  answer  to  such 
a  question,  if  it  were  to  attempt  completeness,  would  have 
to  review  not  only  the  whole  history  of  the  Christian 
church,  but  the  whole  history  of  the  world  since  the  intro- 
duction of  Christianity.  The  chief  things  in  the  past 
which  have  been  obstacles  to  the  achievement  of  a  Chris- 
tian state  of  human  society,  however,  may  perhaps  be 
summarized  under  six  heads:  The  first  is  the  fact  that 
Christianity  has  in  the  main  been  Taken  by  professed 
Christians  as  a  theological  and  metaphysical  doctrine  per- 
taining to  the  salvation  of  the  soul  in  a  life_beypnd  rather 
than  as  ^p£actical_etliical  and  social  attitude.  The  world 
into  which  Christianity  was  introduced  was  dominantly 
theologically  minded,1  and  it  has  remained  in  that  state 
until  very  recent  times.  The  second  obstacle  which  Chris- 
tianity as  a  social  and  ethical  system  encountered  was  the 
pagan  religions  and  morals  of  the  ancient  world,  with  their 
sanctions  of  barbarism,  which,  we  shall  try  to  show  in  the 

1  Says  Wells  (Outline  of  History,  Vol.  I,  pp.  591-592)  :  "Jesus  had 
called  men  and  women  to  a  giant  undertaking,  to  the  renunciation  of 
self,  to  the  new  birth  into  the  kingdom  of  love.  The  line  of  least 
resistance  for  the  flagging  convert  was  to  intellectualize  himself  away 
from  this  plain  doctrine,  this  stark  proposition,  into  complicated 
theories  and  ceremonies.  .  .  .  By  the  fourth  century  we  find  all  the 
Christian  communities  so  agitated  and  exasperated  by  tortuous  and 
elusive  arguments  about  the  nature  of  God  as  to  be  largely  negligent 
of  the  simpler  teachings  of  charity,  service  and  brotherhood  that 
Jesus  had  inculcated."  An  excellent  discussion  of  the  reasons  for 
the  failure  of  the  teachings  of  Jesus  to  be  understood  by  his  followers 
will  be  found  in  Thomas's  Religion — Its  Prophets  and  False 
Prophets  (Macmillan,  1918). 


86       THE  KECONSTRUCTION  OF  KELIGIOST 

next  chapter,  have  very  definitely  survived  even  in  the 
traditions  of  our  present  civilization.  From  the  first,  the 
pagan  state  of  religion  and  morals  forced  Christianity  in 
practical  life  to  compromise ;  and  pagan  habits  of  thought 
and  feeling  made  it  almost  impossible  for  all  except  a  few 
minds  to  comprehend  the  meaning  of  the  social  teachings 
of  Christianity.1  The  third  obstacle  to  the  social  success 
of  Christianity  has  been  the  failure  of  its  representatives 
to  appreciate  the  importance  of  the  material  and -economic 
factors  in  the  life  of  man. 

Man  is  not  only  a  spiritual  being  with  spiritual,  that  is, 
social  and  ethical,  wants;  but  he  is  also  a  material  being 
hemmed  about  by  the  forces  of  the  material  world^His 
spiritual  life  can  only  blossom  and  come  to  fruitage  under 
favorable  material  and  economic  conditions^}  If  it  is  true, 
as  Jesus  said,  that  "man  does  not  live  by  bread  alone,"  it 
is  also  true  that  man  cannot  live  without  bread.  The 
material  wants  of  life  must  be  satisfied,  in  other  words, 
in  some  proper  measure  before  the  spiritual  life  can  have 
a  fair  chance  to  develop.  The  social  ideals  of  religion,  if 
they  are  to  be  practical,  cannot  concern  themselves  ex- 
clusively with  the  immaterial  things  of  life.  The  cry  of 
the  masses  for  bread  must  not  be  met  by  presenting  them 
a  stone,  in  the  form  of  ethical  truth  regarding  the  value 
of  a  mind  above  the  things  of  this  world.  Nor  did  Jesus 
so  teach  or  so  act,  one  cannot  but  remark.  When  religion 
develops  this  sort  of  other-worldliness,2  it  is  bound  to  be- 

1  See  Glover,  The  Conflict  of  Religions  in  the  Early  Roman  Empire. 

a  Much  of  this  "otherworldliness"  of  primitive  Christians  was,  of 
course,  due  to  their  Millonarianism,  and  through  all  the  Christian 
centuries  Millenarianism  has  been  an  influence  which  has  kept  the 
church  from  undertaking  its  true  task.  See  Chapter  VI.  Says 
Professor  E.  C.  Hayes  (Sociology  and  ElKics,  p.  1):  "The  substi- 
tution of  a  mystic  doctrine  of  the  'second  coming'  for  the  practical 
purpose  for  which  the  founder  of  Christianity  lived  and  died  is  the 
most  pathetic  of  all  perversions  of  a  noble  teaching." 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  CHRISTIANITY     87 

come  a  stumbling  block  to  human  progress,  and  to  be 
accused  of  being  merely  a  means  to  quiet  the  justifiable 
discontent  of  the  suffering  masses.  Now  the  social  failure 
of  historical  Christianity  in  the  past  has  been  largely  due 
to  the  non-recognition  of  this  truth ;  and  this  is  the  main 
reason  why  some  men  have  lost  their  faith  in  the  social 
power  of  religion. 

A  social  and  humanitarian  religion  cannot  regard  any- 
thing in  human  life  as  alien  to  itself.  In  a  sense  it  is 
concerned  as  much  with  the  material  conditions  of  life 
as  with  the  spiritual,1  because  it  does  not  conceive  that 
social  redemption  is  possible  without  control,  for  the  sake 
of  the  higher  social  values,  over  all  of  the  conditions  of 
life.  In  other  words,  it  is  quite  as  much  the  aim  of  social 
religion  to  transform  the  environment  in  which  the  indi- 
vidual must  live  as  to  bring  to  the  individual  soul  re- 
demptive truth  and  spiritually  uplifting  influences;  and 
it  is  the  material,  quite  as  much  as  it  is  the  spiritual  en- 
vironment which  must  be  transformed,  if  social  religion 
is  to  succeed  in  its  great  work  of  creating  an  ideal  human 
society  in  which  justice  and  good  will  shall  be  realized. 
To  this  point  we  shall  return  again. 

A  fourth  thing  which  has  been  an  obstacle  to  the 
achievement  of  a  Christian  state  of  society  during  the  last 
few  centuries,  has  been  the  extreme  individualisni  of 
Protestant  Christianity..  This  has  led  to  "an  absence  of 
the  sense  of  responsibility  for  the  social  order  which  has, 
from  the  beginning,  maimed  and  distorted  Protestant 
Christianity."  2  It  tended  to  render,  in  many  cases,  the 
religious  life  of  Protestant  peoples  a  socially  sterile  sub- 
jectivism and  to  narrow  the  object  of  religious  enthusiasm 

1  See  Chapters  VIII,  IX  and  X. 

2  Fitch,  Preaching  and  Paga-nism,  p.  67.     Compare  p.  113  of  this 
book. 


88       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

from  the  redemption  of  humanity  to  the  redemption  of 
a  few  individuals.  Even  yet  some  Protestant  denomina- 
tions "Lave  scarcely  freed  themselves  from  the  blighting 
influence  of  such  religious  individualism. 

<;        •     A  fifth  obstacle,  closely  akin  to  the  last,  to  the  realiza- 
/  tion  of  Christian  ideals  in  social  life,  has  been  the  _un in- 
telligent use  which  Christians  have  made  of  the  Bible, 
often  taking  all  parts  as  equally  inspired  and  on  the  same 

/      plane.     The  result  has  been  that  the  teachings  of  Jesus 
have  been  often  neglected  and  that  the  actual  Christianity 

t      taught  has  been  a  strange  mixture  of  Old  Testament  re- 

\  ligion  and  Pauline  theology.1 

A  sixth  obstacle  to  the  social  success  of  Christianity  has 
been  ijs  failure  to  ally  itself  with  humane  science.  The 
church  hitherto  has  failed  to  -see  that  the  great  enemy  of 
mankind  is  ignorance.  It  has  failed  to  understand  that 
the  redemption  of  humanity,  the  creation  of  an  ideal  so- 
ciety in  which  the  divine  will  shall  be  realized/,  can  be 
compassed  only  through  a  full  knowledge  of  all  the  forces 
which  make  or  mar  human  life,  both  individually  and 
collectively.  Instead  of  devoting  itself  to  the  promotion 
of  such  knowledge,  the  church  has  often  presented  the 

i  A  professor  of  religious  education  in  an  orthodox  school  of  religion 

A5        writes  me:  "Preachers  still  pay  more  attention  to  Paul's  theology  than 

jl  to   the   teachings   of   Jesus.     There   are  two   reasons   for   this:    The 

orthodox  notion  of  inspiration  puts  Paul's  teachings  on  a  par  with 

those  of  Jesus;  and  this  has  made  it  easier  to  preach  theology  than 

to  preach   social   Christianity   because   theology   is   in  the  realm   of 

opinion,  while  social  Christianity  is  in  the  realm  of  everyday  life." 

For  an  interesting  attempt  to  dissociate  the  teachings  of  Jesus  from 
Pauline  theology,  though  often  crude  and  uncritical,  see  Singer's 
The  Rival  Philosophies  of  Jesus  and  Paul.  Safer  guides,  however, 
will  be  found  in  such  works  os  Kent's  Social  Teachings  of  the 
Prophets  and  Jesus,  Chaps.  XXV,  XXVI,  and  his  Work  and  Teach- 
ings of  the  Apostles;  Smith's  Guide  to  the  Study  of  the  Christian 
Religion  (see  especially  Chaps.  V  and  IX)  ;  King's  Ethics  of  Jesus; 
and  Mathew's  The  Social  Teaching  of  Jesus.  For  a  view  the  oppo- 
site of  Singer's,  see  Bacon's  Jesus  and  Paul,  especially  Lecture  III. 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  CHRISTIANITY      89 

sorry  spectacle  of  opposing  the  advance  of  science,  and 
especially  its  extension  to  human  affairs. 

Not  only  must  the  failures  of  historical  Christianity 
be  fully  recognized,  but  we  must  also  recognize  the  fre- 
quent failure  hitherto  of  all  humanitarian  religion  for  the 
reasons  just  mentioned.  The  social  failure  of  religion, 
however,  is  like  the  social  failure  of  science;  it  has  been 
a  failure  at  times  to  envisage  the  whole  of  the  social 
reality  and  the  whole  of  human  life.  In  our  rapidly 
changing  and  increasingly  complex  social  world  such 
failure  is  to  be  expected.  Only  a  religious  or  scientific 
dogma  which  fails  to  see  that  religion  is  a  growing,  evolv- 
ing thing,  still  to  be  perfected,  would  throw  aside  religion 
because  it  has  failed  in  the  past  and  is  still  very  far  from 
meeting  the  full  needs  of  our  social  life.  All  of  our  in- 
stitutions are  failures  in  this  sense.  Yet  one  who  would 
discard  the  family  or  government,  for  example,  because 
they  have  failed  in  the  past  and  still  fall  short  of  meeting 
the  requirements  of  our  present  civilization,  would  be 
foolish.  The  most  conspicuous  failure  of  all,  the  candid 
scientific  mind  will  readily  admit,  is  science  itself.  For 
modern  science  until  very  recently  has  conspicuously  failed 
to  envisage  human  life  as  a  complex  whole,  and  even  in 
many  instances,  indeed,  to  take  cognizance  of  social 
reality  at  all.  Yet  the  scientific  mind  does  not  lose  faith 
in  science  because  of  the  failures  of  science.  On  the  con- 
trary, because  of  its  method  and  its  aim  the  very  failures 
of  science  are  an  incentive  to  the  further  development  of 
science. 

In  the  same  way  the  failures  of  religion  attest  to  its 
supreme  worth  and  in  all  rational  minds  are  an  incentive 
to  its  further  development.  No  human  institution  has 
grown  in  any  other  way  than  through  successes  and  fail- 


90       THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGIOtf 

ures;  and  one  must  admit  that  the  failures  of  institu- 
tions have  more  often  contributed  to  their  rational  de- 
velopment than  their  successes.  The  hopeful  thing  in  this 
world  of  ours  is  that  human  life  and  civilization  are  ever 
turning  defeat  into  victory.  It  is  time  that  those  who  see 
the  social  value  of  religion — who  see  that  religion  is  not 
less  needed  than  science  to  meet  the  problems  of  our  com- 
plex human  living  together — should  rally  and  turn  what- 
ever defeats  religion  has  sustained  into  victory.  The 
development  of  humanitarian  religion  is  only  just  begin- 
ning; *  but  it  must  be  developed  on  a  world-wide  scale  if 
humanitarian  civilization  is  to  go  forward  with  its  work. 

Moral  renewal  is  now  obviously  the  one  thing  most 
needed  in  Western  civilization.  ^"Only  the  development  of 
vital,  humanitarian  religion  can  save  Western  civilization 
from  defeat.  J  If  this  is  so,  there  is  urgent  need  of  a  re- 
valuation  of  Christianity.  For,  as  a  great  secular  news- 
paper has  recently  said,2  one  might  as  well  forget  the  law 
of  gravitation  in  the  physical  world  as  to  ignore  in  the 
social  world  the  ethical  principles  which  Jesus  enunciated. 
Humanity  would  be  about  as  safe  in  the  one  case  as  in 
the  other,  as  the  recent  history  of  the  world  sufficiently 
attests.  Many  social  thinkers  of  the  present  see  that  the 
world  needs  a  rebirth  of  vital  religion,  but  many  of  these 
fail  to  see  that  a  foundation  was  laid  in  religion  and  ethics 
by  Jesus  as  stable  as  the  foundation  laid  by  Copernicus 
in  astronomy  or  by  Darwin  in  biology.  They  look  for  a 
new  religion.  In  the  autumn  of  1914  the  writer  heard  in 
London  a  great  English  social  thinker  say  that  he  saw 

1  Conservative  scientific  estimates  place  the  duration  of  man's  life 
upon  earth  at  not  less  than  250,000  years.  Compared  with  this  long 
past,  as  has  often  been  pointed  out,  Christianity  has  been  at  work 
only  a  few  minutes. 

*The  Nation,  December  21,  1918   (Vol.  107,  p.  762). 


SOCIAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  CHRISTIANITY     91 

no  way  out  of  the  present  crisis  in  our  civilization  unless 
there  should  perchance  again  arise  a  religious  leader  of 
the  simplicity,  dignity,  and  exaltation  of  character  of 
Jesus  of  Nazareth,  who  could  lead  the  nations  to  peace, 
justice,  and  brotherhood.  But  with  much  more  insight 
into  our  social  and  moral  problems,  as  well  as  into  the 
nature  of  Christianity,  Henry  C.  Emery,  formerly  a  pro- 
fessor of  economics  in  Yale  University,  has  said :  "We  are 
told  by  some  writers  that  the  world  is  waiting  in  an  agony 
of  expectation  for  some  great  social  philosopher  who  shall 
bring  to  it  the  new  message  of  salvation.  If  so,  the  world 
is  wrong,  for  there  is  no  message  to  bring  it  peace  from 
its  manifold  ills,  save  that  heard  nineteen  centuries  ago 
from  the  profoundest  of  all  social  philosophers,  the  Man 
of  Nazareth."  x 

With  dispassionate  impartiality,  Professor  Ross,  too, 
has  said:  "I  suppose  that  all  students  of  society  would 
accept  something  like  this  as  the  formula  for  social  prog- 
ress: The  maximizing  of  harmony  and  co-operation  and 
the  minimizing  of  hostility  and  conflict.  Now  when  you 
stop  to  think  of  it,  is  it  not  wonderful  that  in  the  Gospels 
we  find  provided  just  the  religion  which  is  best  suited  to 
realize  the  sociologists'  ideal?  From  the  point  of  view 
of  improvement  in  human  relations,  humanity  has  in  this 
religion  an  asset  of  indescribable  value."  2 

1  Quoted  by  Strong,  The  New  World  Religion,  p.  479.  In  a  public 
lecture  before  the  University  of  Colorado,  August  10,  1921,  Dr.  A.  B. 
Wolfe,  professor  of  economics  and  sociology  in  the  University  of 
Texas,  whose  entire  detachment  from  all  traditionalism  is  well  known, 
similarly  declared:  "The  Western  world  needs  to  be  converted  to 
Christianity  almost  as  much  as  it  needs  conversion  to  science.  By 
Christianity  I  mean  precisely  the  ethics  of  Jesus." 

So,  too,  Professor  Simkhovitch  says:  "Christ's  insight  was  one 
which  future  generations  may  rediscover  but  can  never  upset." 
(Toward  the  Understanding  of  Jesus,  p.  59.) 

'Proceedings  of  the  American  Sociological  Society,  Vol.  XIV 
(1919),  p.  133. 


92       THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  EELIGION 

The  fundamental  principles  of  Christianity,  in  other 
words,  are  in  harmony  with  the  fundamental  principles 
of  social  science,  and  the  world  needs  only  to  develop  and 
apply  those  principles  to  have  a  religion  in  accord  with 
modern  social  science.  That  scientific  knowledge  of  hu- 
man relationships  should  point  to  the  same  conclusions 
reached  in  religious  development  two  millenniums  ago  will 
surprise  no  one  who  understands  the  principles  of  social 
evolution *  which  we  have  set  forth  in  the  preceding 
chapter.  And  the  specific  reasons  why  Jesus  headed  the 
movement  for  a  social  world  patterned  upon  the  relation- 
ships and  values  of  the  family  life  we  have  just  indicated. 

If  that  movement  was  not  a  mistake,  the  world  surely 
needs  to  acknowledge  anew  the  leadership  of  Jesus,  and 
this  means  that  we  need  a  rebirth  of  Christianity  in  the 
sense  of  the  religion  of  Jesus.  It  is  time  that  organized 
Christianity  hecome  synonymous  with  the  religion  of 
Jesus.  ^JThe  vision  which  Jesus  had  of  a  social  life  based 
upon  love  or  good  will  is  not  an  unrealizable  dream.  It 
is  the  only  possible  social  future  if  the  world  is  not  going 
to  turn  back  to  barbarism.  Men  have  never  intelligently 
tried  to  realize  it  in  their  social  life.  Instead  they  have 
been  satisfied  with  various  cheap  substitutes  in  the  form 
of  theological  beliefs  which  have  diverted  their  attention 
"from  the  true  problems  of  the  religious  life  or  with  formal 
pretensions  which  have  thinly  disguised  their  underlying 
paganism. 

1  Similarly  Wells  (Outline  of  History,  Vol.  I,  p.  584)  says: 
"Though  much  has  been  written  foolishly  about  the  antagonism  of 
science  and  religion,  there  is  indeed  no  such  antagonism.  What  all 
world  religions  declare  by  inspiration  and  insight,  history,  as  it 
grows  clearer,  and  science,  as  its  range  extends,  display  (as  a  reason- 
able and  demonstrable  fact)  that  men  form  one  universal  brother- 
hood, that  they  spring  from  one  common  origin,  that  their  individual 
lives,  their  nations  and  races,  interbreed  and  blend  and  go  on  to 
merge  again  at  last  in  one  common  human  destiny." 


CHAPTER  IV 

OUR    SEMI-PAGAN    CIVILIZATION 

THE  third  thing  which  is  needed  for  the  proper  recon- 
structiorT~of~~religion  is  the  perception  of  the  essential 
paganism  and  barbarity  of  our  present  civilization."^  "We 
must  see  our  present  so-called  civilization,"  as  justly  says 
a  recent  writer,1  "for  what  it  is — a  thing  of  barbarism, 
feeding  upon  the  life  of  the  race  in  the  poverties  of  peace 
as  well  as  in  the  woes  of  war — and  get  rid  of  it  forth- 
with!" The  immediate  and  momentous  question  before 
the  world  is  what  sort  of  civilization  we  shall  aim  to 
achieve;  whether  it  shall  be  patterned  after  the  ideals  of 
the  Christianity  of  the  Gospels,  or  developed  along  other 
lines.  Do  we  want  a  Christian  world  or  not  ?  This  has 
become  the  momentous  question  before  our  age  because  the 
ethical  ideals  of  Christianity  have  been  challenged  in 
recent  years  as  never  before  in  the  history  of  Western 
civilization,  and  pagan  views  of  life  have  been  openly  ad- 
vocated. The  trend  in  Western  civilization  as  a  whole 
for  several  years  immediately  prior  to  the  breaking  out 
of  the  Great  War  was  unquestionably  away  from  Chris- 
tian ideals.2 


1  Dr.  John  Haynes  Holmes. 

•Unscientific  observers  prior  to  the  Great  War  were  almost  in- 
variably optimistic,  as  critical  mindedness  towards  one's  own  civiliza- 
tion, if  rational,  requires  considerable  scientific  detachment.  This 
was  particularly  true  of  the  daily  press  in  the  United  States.  But 
the  war  shattered  the  foundations  of  this  uncritical  optimism,  and 
some  at  least  were  led  to  take  a  more  critical  attitude.  The  following 
paragraphs,  taken  from  an  editorial  which  appeared  in  one  of  the 

93 


94       THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

While  this  fact  was  appreciated  by  practically  all  care- 
ful students  of  Western  civilization,  whether  they  were 
sympathetic  with  Christian  ideals  or  not,  yet  the  Chris- 
tian church  as  a  whole,  and  especially  its  leaders,  re- 
mained strangely  blind  in  the  matter.  In  the  autumn  of 
1913,  for  example,  the  writer  spoke  before  a  large  church 
in  one  of  our  great  cities,  pointing  out  the  trend  in  recent 
years  towards  a  recrudescence  of  pagan  ideals  and  prac- 
tices in  our  civilization.  To  his  surprise  he  found  the 
next  morning  not  only  that  he  was  denounced  in  the  news- 
papers as  a  "pessimist,"  but  that  also  all  except  two  of 
the  Christian  ministers  of  the  city  who  had  been  inter- 
viewed upon  the  subject  disagreed  with  him  and  appar- 

more  ably  edited  metropolitan  American  dailies  in  February,  1919, 
illustrate  this  and  form  a  valuable  bit  of  testimony: 

"For  many  years  before  the  war  we  in  America  had  been  hearing 
how  much  better  the  world  was  becoming.  Outwardly  there  wras  some 
proof  of  it.  Slavery  had  vanished  as  a  human  institution,  the  in- 
quisition and  the  rack  had  gone  to  shameful  oblivion,  religious 
intolerance  was  passing,  wroman  wras  being  lifted  from  the  position 
of  chattel  to  one  of  equality  with  man — in  fact,  the  superficial  mani- 
festations of  a  better  life  were  many. 

"Inwardly,  however,  we  have  been  traveling  the  wrong  road. 
Hypocrisy  and  sham  were  becoming  national  fetiches.  Our  most 
sublime  institutions  were  being  perverted  to  base  commercial  ends. 
Honesty  was  being  measured  by  ability  to  keep  out  of  jail,  shady 
adroitness  and  border-line  shrewdness  in  business  were  magnified  as 
great  virtues,  while  upright,  unyielding  honesty  was  sneered  at  as  a 
concomitant  of  failure. 

"Even  the  very  church  was  prostituted  in  the  pursuit  for  money. 
Preachers  in  many  instances  contorted  the  word  of  God  to  meet  the 
wishes  of  rich  parishioners;  others  preached  charity  as  the  only  real 
virtue,  knowing  that  the  wealthy  in  their  congregation  had  money  to 
give  their  fellow-man,  but  nothing  else.  Crooks  and  sharpers  became 
deacons  and  pillars,  for  under  the  cloak  of  a  religious  life  they  found 
it  much  easier  to  fleece  the  widow  and  the  orphan. 

"The  money  lust  infected  our  courts,  debauched  our  literature  and 
our  schools.  The  successful  man  was  the  rich  man;  others  were 
failures.  Children  were  taught  to  be  good  business  men,  good  traders, 
honest  if  possible,  but  successful  at  all  events.  The  Golden  Calf  had 
a  place  of  honor  in  all  the  meeting  places  of  men." 

The  present  tendency  to  attribute  everything  which  we  judge  to  be 
wrong  with  our  civilization  to  the  ellects  of  the  war  is,  of  course, 
entirely  uncritical. 


OUR  SEMI-PAGAN  CIVILIZATION          05 

cntly  thought  that  he  was  attacking  the  church.  Within 
ii  vrar,  Imwcvcr,  the  atrocities  of  the  German  armies  in 
a  score  of  Belgian  cities  gave  startling  evidence  to  the 
•world  of  the  trend  toward  paganism  in  our  civiliza- 
tion. The  Great  War,  indeed,  revealed  the  unpleasant 
fact  that  our  civilization  was  still  not  far  removed  from 
barbarism.1 

Men  began  to  ask  many  questions.  Has  Christianity  as 
a  social  system  proved  a  failure?  Is  a  Christian  society 
possible  ?  Is  Christianity  "irretrievably  obsolescent"  ? 
Are  not  human  brotherhood,  universal  justice,  and  uni- 
versal good  will  but  idle  dreams,  "  a  species  of  oriental 
mysticism,"  in  a  world  ruled  by  force  and  swayed  by  in- 
dividual and  group  egoism  ?  In  order  to  be  honest,  should 
we  not  frankly  go  back  to  paganism  as  our  rule  of  life? 

1  Destructive  criticism  is  not  a  pleasant  task,  especially  not  to  the 
writer  of  this  book.  He  hopes  that  the  reader  will  understand  that 
such  criticism  is  here  undertaken  with  a  constructive  purpose,  and 
undertaken  only  because  twenty-five  years  of  careful  study  of  all 
phases  of  our  civilization  have  convinced  him  of  the  substantial  truth 
of  the  conclusions  herewith  presented.  The  main  argument  is  not 
retrogression,  but  the  survival  in  our  civilization  of  pagan  and  bar- 
barous elements,  which  recrudesce  in  periods  of  change  and  confusion 
like  the  present.  This  allows,  however,  for  some  degree  of  real 
retrogression  in  certain  respects.  This,  indeed,  every  scientific  student 
of  civilization  expects,  since  history  shows,  not  uniform  progress,  but 
an  alternation  of  progress  and  regress  with,  of  course,  a  balance  on  the 
side  of  progress  in  the  long  run. 

While  the  writer  believes  that  he  has  presented  a  "true  bill" 
against  nineteenth  century  mores,  he  sees  no  cause  for  discourage- 
ment in  the  facts  mentioned  or  in  the  present  situation,  if  people  can 
be  awakened  to  the  falsity  of  the  standards  by  which  they  have  tried 
to  live.  He  would  not  even  agree,  therefore,  with  the  relative  pes- 
simism of  Professor  Santayana,  who  in  his  recent  book  on  Character 
and  Opinion  in  the  United  States,  says  (p.  VI)  :  "Civilization  is  per- 
haps approaching  one  of  those  long  winters  that  overtake  it  from 
time  to  time.  A  flood  of  barbarism  from  below  may  soon  level  all  the 
fair  works  of  our  Christian  ancestors,  as  another  flood  two  thousand 
years  ago  levelled  those  of  the  ancients — such  a  catastrophe  would 
be  no  reason  for  despair — under  the  deluge  and  watered  by  it,  seeds 
of  all  sorts  would  survive  against  the  time  to  come." 


96       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

But  what  do  we  mean  by  "paganism  ?"  Fundamentally 
we  mean  the  type  of  social  life  and  the  ethical  ideals  which 
Machiavelli  and  Nietzsche  discovered,  or  thought  they  dis- 
covered, in  the  civilization  of  Greece  and  Rome  previous 
to  the  advent  of  Christianity — a  type  of  society,  in  other 
words,  in  which  power  and  pleasure  are  frankly  avowed 
as  the  ends  of  individual  and  group  action.  Machiavelli 
found  in  pre-Christian  Rome  his  great  model.  The  career 
of  that  world-conquering  state,  he  thought,  showed  that 
the  only  end  of  the  state  was  power,  that  men  were  ex- 
clusively moved  by  pure  self-interest  or  egoism,  and  that 
public  policies  could  not  be  based  upon  Christian  mo- 
rality. His  ideal  was  that  of  the  ruthless  militant  state, 
whose  only  aim  was  the  expansion  of  its  power  and  ulti- 
mately world  dominion  over  other  peoples.  In  much  the 
same  spirit  Nietzsche  discovered  in  pre-Christian  Greece 
and  Rome  the  foundation  for  his  doctrine  that  power  is 
the  supreme  aim  of  all  life.  It  was  Greece  rather  than 
Rome,  however,  which  especially  afforded  Nietzsche  his 
model.  The  Greeks,  with  their  child-like  joy  in  life,  their 
love  of  pleasure  and  amusement,  their  sensuous  aestheti- 
cism;  the  Romans,  with  their  frank  acceptance  of  power 
as  the  only  end  of  public  policy;  the  ancient  Teutonic 
tribesmen,  with  their  joy  in  battle  and  in  the  exercise  of 
ruthless  might, — all  these  appealed  to  Nietzsche  as  so 
much  in  line  with  his  social  ideal,  that  the  coming  of 
Christianity  to  disturb  this  "natural  order"  seemed  to  him 
the  greatest  calamity  in  human  history. 

Of  course,  the  situation  in  the  ancient  world  was  not 
so  simple  as  Machiavelli  and  Nietzsche  pictured  it.  There 
was  no  single  form  of  paganism ;  there  were  many  forms, 
and  even  in  pre-Christian  times  there  was  a  striving 
towards  something  higher  than  the  immoral  ism  which 
Machiavelli  and  Nietzsche  admired.  Thus  in  Greece, 


OUK  SEMI-PAGAN  CIVILIZATION          97 

Socrates,  Plato,  aud  Aristotle  attempted  to  refute  the 
Sophists  with  their  doctrines  that  "might  makes  right/' 
and  that  "pleasure  is  the  good."  But  as  Nietzsche  says, 
the  movement  which  Socrates,  Plato,  and  Aristotle  stand 
for,  was  not  truly  representative  of  Greek  life.  Nietzsche 
regards  them  as  corruptors  of  Greece,  much  as  Chris- 
tianity was  later  of  the  whole  world.1  The  true  Greece 
of  history,  we  must  admit  with  Nietzsche,  was  the  Greece 
of  the  Sophists  and  Epicureans.  The  true  Rome  was  not 
that  of  Seneca  and  Marcus  Aurelius,  but  that  of  Caesar, 
Nero,  and  Trajan.  The  Roman  Empire  rested  essentially 
upon  the  predatory  use  of  hrute  force,  upon  the  subjuga- 
tion and  exploitation  of  weaker  peoples,  with  scarcely  any 
aim  beyond  that  of  world  dominion.  Greece,  with  its  sen- 
suous aestheticism,  and  Rome,  with  its  brutal  predatory 
militarism,  have  been  perhaps  the  chief  sources  of  cor- 
ruption in  the  traditions  of  our  civilization ;  but  the  Teu- 
tonic tribesmen  of  the  north  with  their  predatory  tradi- 
tions might  be  considered  as  furnishing  a  third  source  of 
paganism  almost  as  important  as  the  first  two,  were  it  not 
for  the  fact  that  these  tribesmen  later  accepted  Greco- 
Roman  civilization  and  largely  supplanted  the  models  of 
their  culture  by  the  models  of  Greece  and  Rome. 

On  the  whole,  then,  Machiavelli  and  Nietzsche  were 
right  in  finding  a  distinct  type  of  culture,  antecedent  to 
our  present  civilization,  which  the  Christian  movement 
tried  to  set  aside.  The  student  of  civilization  is  familiar 
with  that  type  of  culture  also  among  non-European  peo- 
ples. He  finds  that  it  characterizes  all  peoples  living  in 
or  just  emerging  from  the  predatory  stage  of  culture  which 
we  have  described  as  "barbarism."  All  barbarous  peoples 
possess  as  one  dominant  characteristic  of  their  culture 
crude  ideals  of  power  and  pleasure  as  the  proper  ends 

1  See  The  Will  to  Power,  pp.  345-366. 


98       THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

for  action  of  both  individuals  and  groups.  Indeed,  other 
ends  of  action  scarcely  occur  to  them;  and  as  these  are 
the  ends  set  before  both  individuals  and  groups,  such 
peoples  are  possessed  by  illusions  of  advantage  to  them- 
selves in  the  domination,  spoliation,  or  exploitation  of 
others.  "Paganism"  is  therefore  simply  the  moral  and 
religious  equivalent  of  "barbarism"  as  a  cultural  term. 
"Paganism,"  or  "barbarism,"  evidently  underlay,  in  the 
main,  the  culture  of  Greece  and  Rome.  It  also  evidently 
underlies  the  culture  of  the  present,  since  it  is  that  stage 
of  culture  "which  lies  back  of  our  civilization  and  from 
which  we  are  but  just  emerging. 

What  is  the  relation  of  the  religion  of  Jesus  to  the 
pre-Christian  religions  and  morals  which  we  have  termed 
"paganism"  ?  It  was  an  effort,  as  we  have  shown  in  the 
previous  chapter,  to  transcend  these  and  to  furnish  a  new 
set  of  social  patterns  of  a  universalized  humanitarian 
character  with  a  religious  sanction.  The  new  pattern 
ideas  of  social  relationships  which  the  Christian  move- 
ment initiated  were  in  necessary  conflict  with  those  of  the 
older  predatory  civilization  in  which  they  started;  and 
this  conflict  has  continued  down  to  the  present  time. 
Even  now,  after  two  thousand  years  of  slow  emergence 
from  barbarism,  the  world  seems  about  to  relapse  back 
into  it.  Nor  is  this  difficult  historically  to  understand. 
From  the  first  so-called  Christian  civilization  has  been  a 
very  mixed  affair.  Much  even  in  the  Christian  church  has 
been  non-Christian,  or  rather  stark  paganism.1  Through 
all  so-called  Christian  centuries  pagan  ideals  have  been 
uppermost  in  politics  and  in  business,  and  often  in  litera- 
ture, in  art,  in  ethics,  and  in  religion.  The  Greco-Roman 

1  As  one  of  my  colleagues  says,  there  are  even  yet  so  many  pagan 
survivals  in  the  church  that  effective  religion  often  finds  it  necessary 
to  express  itself  through  other  agencies  and  organizations. 


OUE  SEMI-PAGAN  CIVILIZATION          99 

ideal  of  life  lias  more  often  triumphed  over  the  Christian 
ideal  than  most  Christians  are  willing  to  admit.  Ever 
and  again  there  has  been  a  recrudescence  of  the  pagan 
ideals  of  power  and  pleasure  as  the  chief  ends  of  life. 
The  Renaissance  was  especially  marked  by  the  recrudes- 
cence of  paganism.  Indeed,  as  one  impartial  writer  has 
put  it,  "The  ideal  of  the  Renaissance  was  to  restore  pagan 
standards  in  polite  learning,  in  philosophy,  in  sentiment, 
in  morals."  x  Not  simply  Machiavelli  and  Nietzsche,  but 
a  whole  series  of  men  of  thought  and  men  of  action  have 
at  one  time  or  another  advocated  the  restoration  of  pagan 
standards  in  whole  or  in  part  in  our  civilization. 

Modern  civilization  has,  indeed,  been  an  inharmonious 
synthesis,  or  rather  a  continuous  conflict,  between  these 
antagonistic  views  of  our  social  and  moral  life.  In  the 
minds  of  some  this  has  been  interpreted  to  mean  that  the 
elements  of  worth  in  what  we  call  "paganism"  are  so  great 
that  they  must  be  given  equal  validity  with  the  social 
values  set  up  by  Christianity.  But  it  may  be  pointed  out 
that  there  can  be  no  compromise  between  a  socialized 
morality  and  religion,  and  the  ethics  of  power  and  pleas- 
ure for  which  paganism  stands.  There  can  be  no  com- 
promise between  humanitarian  civilization  and  barbarism, 
and  therefore  none  between  Christianity  and  individual 
or  group  egoism.  This  is  not  to  deny  that  certain  ele- 
ments in  the  pagan  ideal  of  life  may  have  worth.  The 
self-culture,  the  happiness  and  joy  in  nature  and  in  life, 
and  even  the  love  of  power  which  paganism  so  stressed, 
have  their  place  in  a  humanitarian  civilization ;  but  theirs 
is  not  the  first  place.2  The  first  place  must  be  given  to 

1  Santayana,  The  Winds  of  Doctrine,  p.  38. 

*  The  argument  of  this  book  is,  of  course,  that  the  Christian  ideal 
of  service  of  mankind  presents  that  synthesis  of  the  Greek  ideal  of 
self-assertion  and  the  oriental  ideal  of  self-renunciation  which  Hob- 
house  points  out  as  necessary.  (The  Rational  Good,  p.  XVIII.) 


100     THE  KECONSTKUCTIOST  OF  RELIGION 

the  sense  of  social  obligation,  to  the  desire  to  serve  and 
benefit  mankind,  not  only  all  who  now  exist,  but  who  may 
exist  in  the  future.  Such  a  social  point  of  view  must 
lead,  moreover,  to  a  policy  of  social  conservation  and  of 
social  self-realization  rather  than  to  one  of  self-gratifica- 
tion and  self-culture.  Service  becomes  the  chief  end  of 
life  for  the  individual,  and  also  for  groups,  rather  than 
power  or  pleasure.  Pagan  ideals  will  cease  to  be  dan- 
gerous when  they  are  definitely  subordinated  to  the  Chris- 
tian ideal  of  life,  but  only  then.  Our  civilization  needs 
a  synthesis  of  its  inharmonious  elements,  but  it  can  get 
that  synthesis  only  through  accepting  the  fundamental 
Christian  principle  that  the  service  of  God  must  consist 
in  the  service  of  mankind. 

Modern  civilization  has  been  troubled  by  the  recrudes- 
cence of  pagan  ideals  only  because  it  has  not  definitely 
accepted  the  Christian  ideal  of  life.1  Power  and  pleasure 
have  remained  its  chief  ideals.  Even  when  these  have  not 
been  held  up  as  ends  for  individuals,  they  have  been  held 
up  as  ends  for  groups.  We  must  not,  of  course,  blame 
overmuch  the  influence  of  pagan  antiquity  for  this.  While 
the  world  has  never  succeeded  in  ridding  itself  of  the 
ideals  of  barbarism,  or  rather  in  definitely  subordinating 
them  to  higher  ideals,  the  conditions  of  our  own  time,  to- 
gether perhaps  with  certain  tendencies  of  human  nature, 
are  even  more  responsible  for  this  than  the  tradition  of 
our  pagan  past.  In  other  words,  many  conditions  in  the 
modern  world  have  released  and  powerfully  stimulated 
the  original  selfish  impulses  of  human  nature.  During 

1  Says  Professor  Conklin  (op.  clt.  p.  170)  :  "When  one  reflects  on 
the  fact  that  for  nineteen  centuries  so  great  a  part  of  the  world  that 
professes  to  be  Christian  hna  remained  heathen  at  heart,  and  that 
to-day  the  teachings  of  Jesus  are  generally  regarded  by  his  so-called 
followers  as  too  lofty  to  be  practical,  we  may  well  wonder  whether 
mankind  is  making  any  progress  in  religion." 


OUR  SEMI-PAGAN  CIVILIZATION        101 

the  nineteenth  century  external  authority  of  every  sort 
declined  to  a  minimum  in  Western  civilization,  and  no 
new  means  of  adequate  social  control  were  developed. 
The  authority  of  the  church,  for  example,  reached  its  low 
ebb,  and,  under  the  assaults  of  criticism  which  was  merely 
destructive,1  the  authority  of  the  Bible  waned.  At  the 
same  time  through  invention  and  discovery  and  the  open- 
ing up  of  unexploited  regions  of  the  earth,  wealth  in- 
creased to  an  extent  beyond  the  dreams  of  previous  ages. 
3<>cn  though  the  increase  of  wealth  did  not  occur  in  all 
classes,  the  increase  affected  the  standards  of  living  and 
conduct  in  all  classes.  A  greater  number  of  individuals 
found  it  possible  to  devote  themselves  to  selfish  aims,  to 
the  getting  of  money,  of  power,  or  of  pleasure  than  ever 
before,  and  the  example  of  these  individuals  affected  all 
classes. 

Thus  by  the  decline  of  external  authority  and  the  in- 
crease of  wealth  human  nature  suddenly  emerged  in  the 
nineteenth  century  from  its  swaddling  bands,  as  it  were. 
The  flood  gates  of  human  selfishness  were  opened  wider 
than  they  had  ever  before  been  opened  to  the  masses  of 
men.  At  the  same  time,  a  gospel  of  individual  and  na- 
tional success  was  preached  everywhere.  Material  stand- 
ards of  life  came  to  dominate  among  the  masses.  All 
these  things  made  a  swing  back  toward  paganism  inevi- 
table in  the  later  years  of  the  nineteenth  century  and  in 
the  earlier  years  of  the  twentieth.2  Literature  began  to 

1 A  fully  scientific  criticism  would,  of  course,  have  been  con- 
structive. See  Chapter  V. 

a  We  must  always  remember,  as  was  pointed  out  at  the  beginning 
of  Chapter  III,  that  we  began  to  outgrow  barbarism  but  yesterday. 
In  the  early  stages  of  civilization,  in  which  we  still  are,  we  must 
expect  frequent  relapse  into  barbarism,  as  human  history  proceeds  by 
the  "trial  and  error  method."  Such  relapses  will  continue  until  the 
mass  of  men  have  learned  to  discriminate  between  the  pagan  or  bar- 
barous elements  in  our  culture  and  the  Christian. 


1Q2     THE  jaBOOStSTEUOTION  OF  RELIGION 

take  on  a  pagan  cast,  such  as  it  had  not  had  even  in  the 
Renaissance.  In  commerce,  in  business,  in  polite  society, 
and  in  amusements  pagan  standards  came  more  and  more 
to  the  front.  A  large  element  in  the  privileged  classes 
refused  to  recognize  or  to  conform  to  any  standard  at  all 
save  their  own  pleasure  and  their  own  wishes.  They  be- 
littled  by  contemptuous  indifference,  if  they  did  not  ridi- 
cule outright,  Christian  standards  in  living  and  in  con- 
duct. Scandalous  divorces  and  marriages  became  com- 
mon to  an  extent  that  the  world  had  not  seen  since  the 
decadent  days  of  Rome.  The  wealthy  set  an  example  of 
extravagance,  luxury,  and  fast  living  which  inevitably 
demoralized  the  rest  of  society.  But  these  were  only 
straws  upon  the  surface.  The  program  of  self-interest, 
material  satisfaction  and  brute  force  came  to  extend 
through  and  through  the  fabric  of  Western  civilization.1 
It  was  not  simply  the  moral  standards  of  the  indi- 
vidual which  were  rebarbarized,  but,  as  we  now  know,  the 
life  of  whole  nations.2  It  "was,  indeed,  in  the  realm  of 
politics  and  of  international  relations,  a  realm  which  had 
never  been  greatly  influenced  by  Christian  standards,  that 

1  Says  Bishop  F.  J.  McConnell  (Journal  of  Religion,  Vol.1,  p.  198)  : 
"The  whole  atmosphere  in  which  the  present  generation  has  been 
reared  has  made  for  individualism  and  for  the  search  for  as  much 
personal  profit  as  can  be  found  anywhere.  .  .  .  The  problem  is  that 
of  the  transformation  of  an  entire  social  climate." 

3  "A  prominent  and  conservative  university  president  recently  said 
in  public  that  the  present  age  is  the  most  decadent  in  history,  with 
the  exception  of  the  days  just  before  the  fall  of  the  Roman  Republic 
and  before  the  French  Revolution.  He  mentioned  'dishonesty  perme- 
ating public  and  private  life  alike,  tainting  the  administration  of 
justice,  tainting  our  legislative  halls,  tainting  the  conduct  of  private 
business,  polluting  at  times  even  the  church  itself.'  In  the  same 
utterance,  he  averred  that  'a  source  of  infinite  evil  in  every  modern 
society  is  impurity  of  word  and  act.'  He  went  on  to  assert  that  'if 
there  is  to  be  social  and  political  regeneration  in  our  Republic  and 
in  the  rest  of  the  world,  it  must  be  by  a  tremendous  regeneration  of 
moral  ideals.' "  Hudson,  The  Truths  We  Live  By,  p.  22. 


OUR  SEMI-PAGAN  CIVILIZATION        103 

the   recrudescence   of  paganism   was   chiefly  to   express 
itself. 

Strive  to  ignore  it  as  we  may,  the  real  causes  of  the 
Great  War  were  in  the  "mores"  of  Western  civilization. 
And  that  these  mores  were  fundamentally  pagan  or  anti- 
Christian  does  not  admit  of  doubt.  In  concrete  terms,  the 
causes  of  the  Great  War  were  pagan  mores  in  political  life, 
in  business  life,  and  in  social  relations  in  general.  Anti- 
Christian  politics,  anti-Christian  business,  anti-Christian 
ideals  of  life,  not  pressure  of  population  upon  material 
resources,  not  geographical  conditions,  not  biological  neces- 
sities connected  with  race,  were  the  real  causes  of  the 
great  conflict.  These  causes  were  everywhere  in  Western 
civilization,  but  they  particularly  came  to  a  head  in  Ger- 
many. Germany  can  be  blamed  for  the  war  only  to  the 
extent  that  Germany  led  in  re-paganizing  the  world.  The 
dominance  in  Germany  of  a  militaristic  tradition,  the  rise 
there  of  imperialistic  commercialism,  and  the  undermin- 
ing of  Christian  ideals  of  life  among  the  Germans  by  these 
two  causes  and  by  the  rise  of  a  destructive  criticism  of 
religion  and  ethics  and  of  a  materialistic  science,  fitted 
Germany  to  bring  to  a  focus  all  of  the  anti-Christian  forces 
in  modern  civilization.  She  became  the  "scourge  of 
God"  to  show  the  nations  the  evil  of  their  ways. 

But,  of  course,  anti-Christian  or  Machiavellian  politics 
was  not  confined  to  Germany.  Though  Frederick  II,  Bis- 
marck, Treitschke,  and  a  host  of  lesser  German  political 
thinkers  formulated  Machiavellian  politics  into  an  odious 
creed  and  justified  it,  yet  their  formulations  were  but  little 
more  than  statements  of  the  actual  practices  of  many  Eu- 
ropean states.  At  the  very  time,  indeed,  this  odious  pagan 
political  philosophy  was  taking  shape  in  Germany,  Great 
Britain  and  Russia  were  permitting  no  ethical  scruples 


104     THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

to  stand  in  the  way  of  their  imperialistic  ambitions.  Eu- 
ropean nations  in  general,  as  a  recent  writer  has  said, 
whatever  their  attitude  toward  Christianity  as  a  private 
faith,  deliberately  accepted  the  thesis  of  its  social  im- 
practicability. The  statesmen  responsible  for  the  diplo- 
macy of  various  European  countries  took  it  for  granted 
that  self-interest  must  be  the  supreme  law  of  nations,  and 
public  sentiment  sustained  them  in  this  attitude. 

Practically  all  of  the  nations  of  Europe,  indeed,  played 
the  game  of  "grab  and  get"  through  the  whole  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  with  seemingly  little  suspicion  that  it  was 
destined  to  bring  upon  them  the  direst  sort  of  punishment. 
Germany  was  the  only  one  that  had  the  hardihood  to  for- 
mulate this  policy  into  a  political  creed  and,  as  it  were, 
officially  to  adopt  it.  In  this  Germany  is  especially  to  be 
blamed,  for  in  a  sense  the  individual  or  nation  which  de- 
liberately adopts  a  creed  of  anti-social  conduct  is  more 
dangerous  than  the  individual  or  nation  which  occasion- 
ally indulges  in  such  conduct.  Beliefs,  ideals,  standards 
ultimately  determine  the  character  of  nations  as  well  as 
of  individuals.  And  Germany  openly  and  unashamedly 
professed  pagan  political  ideals  while  other  nations,  though 
often  practicing  them,  yet  disavowed  them,  and  even  just 
before  the  Great  War  in  some  cases  seemed  on  the  point 
of  repenting  their  practice.  But  the  evil  spirit  of 
Machiavelli  with  his  doctrines  that  the  only  end  of  the 
state  is  power,  and  that  in  politics  the  end  justifies  the 
means,  dominated  the  whole  of  Western  civilization  dur- 
ing the  nineteenth  century. 

Back  of  the  anti-Christian  politics  of  the  modern  world 
stood  anti-Christian  business.  In  an  era  of  the  world- 
wide expansion  of  industry  and  of  the  economic  exploita- 
tion of  the  earth,  it  was  easy  for  the  economic  doctrine 


OUK  SEMI-PAGAN  CIVILIZATION        105 

to  grow  up  and  receive  general  acceptance,  that  business 
was  for  profits  only.  An  imperialistic,  capitalistic  in- 
dustry grew  up,  which  set  before  itself  as  its  one  end  the 
domination  of  the  world's  markets  for  the  sake  of  profits. 
This  imperialistic  capitalism  found  a  ready  tool  in 
Machiavellian  politics  and  in  the  growth  of  a  hyper- 
nationalistic  spirit.  The  whole  commercial  and  industrial 
world  of  Western  civilization  became  organized  on  essen- 
tially pagan  lines.  Profits,  dividends,  economic  success, 
were  aimed  at,  no  matter  what  the  expense  to  humanity. 
Self-interest  was  held  to  be  the  only  possible  basis  for 
business  enterprise,  and  this  self-interest  was  usually  in- 
terpreted to  mean  merely  the  interests  of  the  business  man 
as  an  individual.  The  obligations  of  business  even  to  the 
community  were  overlooked,  to  say  nothing  of  its  wider 
responsibilities  to  humanity  at  large. 

Within  the  national  life  itself  this  anti-Christian  spirit 
in  the  commercial  and  business  world  had  a  most  disas- 
trous influence.  The  gospel  of  self-interest  came  to 
dominate  not  only  industrial  life  but  it  spread  to  all  other 
phases  of  the  social  life.  Even  the  family  life  came  to  be 
looked  upon  as  a  matter  of  private  convenience.  No  mat- 
ter how  carefully  the  young  were  instilled  with  Christian 
ideals  in  the  home  and  in  the  church,  as  soon  as  they  got 
into  the  business  world  they  felt  compelled  to  lay  aside 
these  ideals  and  to  adopt  the  pagan  code  of  business 
morality,  that  in  business  self-interest  alone  must  guide 
one's  conduct.  Consequently  business  paganized  a  part  of 
their  life  insidiously  before  they  knew  it ;  and  gradually 
their  whole  moral  life  became  weakened  and  undermined. 
The  reactions  of  pagan  business  upon  the  public  life  of  the 
nation  were  not  less  insidious  and  corrupting  than  upon 
its  private  life.  Newspapers  became  filled  with  details 
how  big  business  and  little  business  did  not  scruple  to  do 


106     THE  KECONSTKUCTKXN"  OF  RELIGION 

anything  to  insure  profits  and  dividends.  Exploitation 
of  the  economically  weak,  cynical  disregard  of  human 
rights,  and  even  revolting  inhumanities  in  industry 
alienated  economic  classes,  thus  sapping  the  foundations 
of  democracy,  while  corporations  often  maintained  they 
had  the  privilege  of  exploiting  the  public  by  graft  and 
corruption.  Municipal  governments  were  corrupted  in 
many  cases,  state  legislative  bodies  were  bribed,1  and  when 
the  United  States  government  in  the  early  years  of  the 
twentieth  century  imdertook  to  insist,  in  even  a  slight  de- 
gree, that  business  should  be  put  upon  the  basis  of  public 
service,  nearly  the  whole  of  the  big  business  of  the  country 
threatened  to  go  upon  a  "strike,"  so  little  did  the  patriotic, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  Christian,  spirit  permeate  the  larger 
business  interests  of  the  nation. 

A  reflex  result  was  that  self-interest  and  class  interest 
became  in  the  nineteenth  century  the  maxims  of  the  labor- 
ing class  also.  The  ideal  of  public  service  in  laboring 
class  movements  was  subordinated  or  forgotten.  As  the 
gospel  of  self-interest  dominated  the  relations  of  employer 
and  employee,  the  interests  of  the  two  were  held  to  be 
diametrically  opposed.  Consequently  there  grew  up  the 
doctrine  of  class  war  with  at  least  an  implied  correlated 
doctrine  of  class  hate.  Christianity,  rationality,  and 
altruism  were  scouted  and  even  scorned  as  possible  means 
for  the  solution  of  economic  problems.  The  only  solution 
of  the  problem  of  the  relations  between  economic  classes, 
nineteenth-century  popular  socialism  held,  was  the  forcible 
overthrow  of  the  capitalist  class  by  the  working  class.  It 
is  not  too  much  to  say  that  Marxian  socialism,  in  par- 
ticular, took  as  its  immediate  goal  the  inspiring  of  the 
working  class  with  the  desire  to  dominate  and  destroy 

1  See  R.  C.  Brooks,  Corruption  in  American  Politics  and  Life. 


OUK  SEMI-PAGAN  CIVILIZATION        107 

other  social  classes.  As  one  of  its  most  conspicuous  ex- 
ponents has  said  in  effect,  its  aim  was  to  teach  the  work- 
ing class  to  "combine  the  old  weapons  of  criticism  with 
the  new  criticism  of  weapons."  In  other  words,  Marxian 
socialism  openly  advocated  the  settlement  of  economic 
grievances  between  classes  by  resort  to  force.  By  the  end 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  accordingly,  Western  civiliza- 
tion was  confronted  by  a  well-organized  movement  among 
the  laboring  classes,  which  was  openly  atheistic,  mate- 
rialistic, and  consciously  aimed  at  class  domination.  The 
disastrous  results  of  developing  working  class  movements 
upon  the  pagan  basis  of  self-interest  and  class  interests 
must  now  be  sufficiently  evident  from  the  case  of  Russia. 
But  it  is  well  to  remember  that  the  adoption  of  the  preda- 
tory standards  of  paganism  by  a  part  of  the  laboring 
classes  in  Western  civilization  has  been  largely,  if  not 
entirely,  a  reflex  of  the  practices  of  the  socially  more  for- 
tunate classes.  In  other  words,  anti-Christian  business 
has  been  largely  responsible  for  the  anti-Christian  phases 
of  working-class  movements. 

Deeper  than  anti-Christian  politics  or  anti-Christian 
business  were  anti-Christian  ideals  of  life  in  Western 
civilization  generally.  Civilization  is  made  up  of  tradi- 
tions, and  traditions  are  made  up  of  thoughts.  The 
thinking  classes  in  any  cultural  group,  therefore,  are  ulti- 
mately responsible  for  the  guidance  of  its  civilization. 
Back  of  them,  to  be  sure,  may  lie  traditions  and  objective 
circumstances  which  influence  their  thought,  but  this  fact 
does  not  detract  from  their  responsibility  as  the  creators 
and  leaders  of  civilization.  To  get  at  the  real  ideals  which 
animate  any  civilization,  we  must  turn,  therefore,  to  its 
literature,  its  art,  its  science,  its  religion,  in  brief,  to  the 
ideals  and  standards  of  its  educated  and  socially  privileged 


108     THE  BECONSTKUOTION  OF  RELIGION 

classes.  What  were  the  ideals  and  standards  of  the  edu- 
cated classes  of  Western  civilization  before  the  Great 
War  began  ?  Were  they  dominantl j  pagan  or  Christian 
ideals  ? 

If  we  turn  to  literature  first,  we  find  that  a  large  part 
of  the  literature  of  the  later  nineteenth  and  earlier 
twentieth  century  was  totally  regardless  of  Christianity,1 
that  it  derided  or  ignored  Christian  ideals.2  We  are  not, 
of  course,  speaking  of  Christianity  as  a  theology,  but  of 
Christianity  as  a  system  of  ethics  and  of  social  life. 
European  literature  revelled  in  a  purely  destructive  criti- 
cism of  the  traditional  morality  of  Christendom  in  the 
family,  in  business,  in  general  political  and  social  rela- 
tions. The  representatives  of  these  tendencies  were  not  a 
few  minor  literary  men  with  no  standing,  but  included 
the  foremost  names  in  the  literature  of  the  day.  More- 
over, the  writers  who  exploited  these  tendencies  were 
usually  the  most  popular  ones,  especially  among  the  edu- 
cated classes.  An  indication  of  the  moral  condition  of 
the  intellectual  classes  may  be  found  in  the  popularity  in 

»  the  later  nineteenth  century  of  the  old  Persian  poet,  Omar 
Khayyam,  whose  frankly  pagan  view  of  life  seemed  greatly 

;  to  delight  many  intellectuals.     But  some  found  the  rela- 

lln  an  article  on  "Is  Modern  Literature  Christless?"  in  The 
Christian  Century,  April  14,  1921,  Dr.  Joseph  Fort  Newton  answers: 
"Much  of  it  is.  Most  of  it,  indeed,  is  written  as  if  Christ  had  never 
lived." 

It  is  invidious,  of  course,  to  single  out  examples,  but  to  illustrate 
our  meaning  we  might  take  Samuel  Butler's  The  Way  of  All  Flesh, 
a  book  which,  while  it  justly  satirizes  a  pseudo-Christian  society,  is 
itself  purely  pagan  in  its  point  of  view.  No  book  has  been  more 
popular  among  the  intellectual  classes  during  the  past  twenty  years. 

3  Says  Professor  E.  C.  Hayes  (Sociology  and  Ethics,  p.  2)  :  "Moral 
disintegration  is  by  no  means  peculiar  to  Germany.  A  large  part  of 
our  own  popular  fiction  consists  in  the  subtlest  advocacy  of  a  pseudo- 
scientific  immorality.  ...  We  are  assured  that  nothing  is  wrong 
that  is  'natural,'  that  in  nature  there  is  no  higher  and  no  lower,  that 
altruism  is  only  a  form  of  selfishness  and  that  reason  has  no  prece- 
dence over  the  instincts  that  we  share  with  the  beasts." 


OUR  SEMI-PAGAN  CIVILIZATION        109 

tively  luxurious  and  effeminate  paganism  of  such  writers 
as  Omar  Khayyam  not  sufficiently  strong  for  their  taste. 
They  preferred  writers  whose  works,  as  has  been  said, 
it  was  irrelevant  to  criticize  as  immoral  because  they  in- 
tended to  be  immoral.1  The  whole  decadent  school  of 
literature  and  art  regarded  the  moral  standards  of  Chris- 
tianity as  the  most  worthless  sort  of  rubbish. 

The  most  fearless,  most  consistent  exponent  of  this 
school  was,  of  course,  the  German  philosopher,  Nietzsche, 
whose  writings  would  deserve  further  consideration  at  this 
point  if  we  had  not  already  sufficiently  indicated  their 
importance  for  the  understanding  of  the  deep  pagan  cur- 
rent in  our  civilization.  Nietzsche  cannot  possibly  be 
dismissed  as  an  exceptional,  aberrant  type;  nor  was  he 
peculiarly  German.  A  host  of  kindred  writers  were 
grouped  about  him  in  every  country  of  Western  civiliza- 
tion. He  was,  therefore,  profoundly  symptomatic  of  the 
spirit  of  his  time,  and,  indeed,  as  we  have  already  indi- 
cated, he  will  become  in  the  future  either  the  leader  of 
the  re-paganization  of  the  world,  or  else  the  last  of  the 
great  pagans  of  the  nineteenth  century  to  pass  into  ob- 
livion. We  cannot  escape  Nietzsche  when  we  confront 
the  problem  of  our  civilization.  Yet  his  influence  was 
political  only  indirectly,  and  economic  scarcely  at  all. 
Rather  the  influence  of  Nietzsche  and  his  kindred 
spirits  was  upon  the  general  ideals  of  our  social  life. 
That  the  influence  of  these  writers  was  tremendously 
anti-Christian  there  can  be  no  doubt.  For,  regard  the 
Nietzschean  philosophy  as  we  will,  it  can  be  summed  up 
in  a  single  sentence,  that  the  only  obligations  which  the 
individual  needs  to  concern  himself  about  are  those  of  his 
own  self-interest,  and  that  the  teachings  of  Jesus  are  the 

1  The  New  Republic,  January  12,  1918,  p.  312  (Vol.  XIII). 


110     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

chief  source  of  weakness  and  corruption  in  the  modern 
world. 

Though  professional  philosophers  have  professed  to 
despise  the  philosophy  of  Nietzsche  as  that  of  a  mere 
literary  man,  yet  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  it  was  deeply 
rooted  in  the  philosophical  tendencies  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  The  individualistic,  naturalistic,  and  material- 
istic tendencies  of  that  philosophy  all  found  expression  in 
Nietzsche.  In  him  we  see  the  worship  of  the  natural  man, 
of  freedom  as  an  end  in  itself,  of  the  superior  individual 
as  the  only  value  worth  considering,  as  well  as  the  wor- 
ship of  power.  The  truth  is  that  the  philosophy  of  the 
nineteenth  century  was  rooted  in  Greek  philosophy,  and 
scarcely  more  than  Greek  philosophy  did  it  escape  from 
the  traditional  point  of  view  and  valuations  of  bar- 
barism. The  best  of  the  nineteenth-century  philosophical 
thinkers,  to  be  sure,  sought  strenuously  to  transcend  these, 
and  to  put  philosophy  upon  a  truly  social  and  humani- 
tarian basis ;  *  but  the  more  popular  nineteenth-century 
philosophy  remained  enamoured  of  pleasure  and  power  as 
the  chief  values  of  life.  It  sought  for  a  standard  of  right 
in  these  abstractions  and  ignored  the  social  life  of  man. 
It  contended  that  the  standard  of  right  lay  wholly  within 
the  individual,  in  his  own  happiness  or  self-development, 
and  not  in  the  interdependent  life  of  all  men.  Such  was 
the  popular  philosophy  of  the  nineteenth  century,  and  it 
is  evident  that  it  was  more  pagan  than  Christian.  It 
made  it  impossible  to  discredit  the  predatory  ethics  of 
barbarism. 

It  may  seem  hazardous  for  one  writing  in  the  name  of 
science  to  assert  that  much  science  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury was  even  more  anti-social,  more  anti-humanitarian, 

1  E.g.,  T.  H.  Green,  Friedrich  Paulsen,  Josiah  Royce. 


OUR  SEMI-PAGAN  CIVILIZATION        111 

and  so,  more  anti-Christian,  than  its  philosophy;  but  \ve 
believe  that  this  will  be  the  judgment  even  of  social  science 
in  the  future.  There  is,  of  course,  the  excuse  that  mod- 
ern science  is  so  recent  in  its  development  that  it  has  not 
had  time  to  become  socialized.  A  great  part  of  the  science 
of  the  nineteenth  century  was,  at  any  rate,  socially  nega- 
tive in  its  attitude.1  It  not  only  held  that  there  was 
nothing  in  religion  of  serious  scientific  concern,  but  that 
the  spiritual  aspects  of  human  life  were  outside  of  scien- 
tific reality ; 2  and  even  in  many  cases  it  held  that  there 
could  be  no  social  science  at  all.  Science,  that  is  accurate, 
systematized  knowledge  it  was  held,  could  alone  concern 
itself  with  the  material  and  the  physical.  If  any  social 
science  existed  it  must  rigorously  exclude  from  its  con- 
sideration the  psychic  or  the  spiritual,  at  least  as  having 
any  real  influence  in  human  affairs.  Everything  must  be 
interpreted  as  belonging  to  one  big  machine.  That  such 
a  conception  belongs  to  the  infantile  stage  of  scientific 
development  needs  hardly  seriously  to  be  argued.  Chil- 
dren and  savages,  it  is  well  known,  are  apt  to  take  a 
similar  view  of  things. 

AVith  such  ignoring  of  the  spiritual  and  the  social,  it  is 
little  surprising  to  know  that  nineteenth-century  science 
only  very  late  began  serious  attempts  at  the  construction 
of  socialized  standards  in  morals  and  made  no  successful 

1  For  illustration,  see  Henry  Adams,  The  Degradation  of  the  Demo- 
cratic Dogma,  especially  "A  Letter  to  American  Teachers  of  History." 
Refutation  of  this  sort  of  science,  so  far  as  it  attempted  to  base  itself 
upon  biological  facts,  will  be  found  in  Professor  J.  Arthur  Thomson's 
System  of  Animate  Nature  and  Professor  William  Patten's  The  Grand 
Strategy  of  Evolution:  The  Social  Philosophy  of  a  Biologist. 

2  Thus  one  of  my  colleagues,  though  himself  a  religious  man,  holds 
that  science  has  no  purpose  except  "the  quantitative  statement  of 
objective  facts."     This  not  only  precludes  the  consideration  of  the 
psychic  as  such,  but  limits  the  field  of  science  in  a  way  not  warranted 
by  its  history  nor  by  the  nature  of  the  scientific  attitude  of  mind. 
See  p.  3. 


112     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

attempt  at  all  at  the  construction  of  an  international 
morality.  Science  remained  in  the  nineteenth  century 
immersed  in  its  beginning  tasks,  the  exploration  and 
understanding  of  physical  nature,  and  scarcely  arrived  at 
seriously  undertaking  the  exploration  and  understanding 
of  human  social  life.  Though  there  were  many  excep- 
tions, it  is  fair  on  the  whole  to  say  that  nineteenth- 
century  science  was  negative  toward  higher  social  values, 
and  instead  of  tending  to  build  up  higher  social  stand- 
ards and  ideals,  in  many  cases  it  actually  tended  to 
destroy  these.  If  it  had  addressed  itself  properly  to  the 
great  problems  of  human  living  together  in  our  civiliza- 
tion, in  the  spirit  of  the  service  of  mankind,  the  Great 
War  would  probably  have  been  averted. 

All  of  these  spiritual  tendencies  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury naturally  found  expression  in  the  universities  in 
Europe  and  America.  One  should  never  forget  that 
Nietzsche  was  a  university  professor,  and  that  the  apolo- 
gists for  Machiavelli  and  Nietzsche  in  Europe  and 
America  were  chiefly  men  who  held  university  chairs. 
These  men  were  not  confined  to  Germany,  as  so  many 
would  fain  believe.  There  were  von  Treitschkes  and 
Nietzsches  of  lesser  renown  in  many  universities  of  West- 
ern civilization.  This,  indeed,  could  not  be  otherwise, 
because  institutions  of  learning,  in  free  societies  at  least, 
are  necessarily  places  where  all  the  spiritual  tendencies 
of  the  time  come  to  a  head,  and  where  the  decisive 
spiritual  battles  are  fought.  One  can  only  regret,  not 
the  appearance  of  such  thinkers  in  academic  life,  but 
rather  only  that  they  seemed  to  be,  previous  to  the  break- 
ing out  of  the  Great  War,  getting  the  upper  hand,  to 
such  an  extent,  indeed,  that  in  some  university  circles 
for  a  scientific  man  to  express  his  belief  in  Christian 
social  ideals  was  for  him  to  be  more  or  less  discounted  by 


OIJE  SEMI-PAGAN  CIVILIZATION        113 

his  scientific  colleagues.  In  many  cases  the  universities 
of  Western  civilization  thus  became  the  chief  centers  of 
neo-paganism.  In  Germany  this  happened  to  be  par- 
ticularly true. 

Even  the  Christian  church  itself  became  subtly  affected 
by  the  pagan  tendencies  of  the  times.1  We  do  not  refer 
to  the  growth  of  "worldiness"  in  the  church  (though 
"worldliness"  is  frequently  only  a  euphemism  for  pagan- 
ism), nor  to  the  growth  of  negative  criticism,  but  rather 
to  the  whole  spirit  developed  by  nineteenth-century 
Protestant  Christianity.  As  one  of  the  most  enlightened 
religious  thinkers  of  the  present  has  said:  "There  grew- 
up  a  conception  of  Christianity  ...  in  principle  largely 
self-centered  and  individualistic.  The  energies  of  Chris- 
tians found  sufficient  outlet  in  the  preparation  of  the 
individual  for  the  life  after  death,  and  the  winning  of 
new  candidates  for  the  citizenship  of  the  future  kingdom. 
Not  transformation  of  this  world,  but  escape  from  it, 
became  the  Christian  message;  not  social  leadership,  but 
protest  the  function  of  the  church."  2 

Alongside  of  this  comparatively  common  unsocialized 
type  of  Christianity  existed  less  common,  even  more  un- 
socialized types,  such  as  so-called  Christian  mysticism. 
Since  to  the  true  mystic  God  is  the  only  reality,  he  has 
no  interest  in  the  present  world.3  The  mystic  thus  en- 
tirely inverts  the  Christian  principle  that  the  service  of 
God  must  be  sought  in  the  service  of  man.4  Mysticism, 

lprhis  in  addition  to  the  survival  of  pagan  tendencies  which  we 
have  already  noted,  (p.  86.) 

*  W.  Adams  Brown,  7s  Christianity  Practicable?"  pp.  25-26. 
»  Ibid.,  p.  28. 

*  This  is  not  true,  of  course,  of  those  modified  forms  of  mysticism  in 
which  the  rational  ethical  elements  of  religion  receive  the  main  empha- 
sis, as  among  the  Quakers.    Some  forms  of  mysticism  of  this  sort,  in- 
deed, approximate  what  we  have  called  "positive  'Shristianity."     Thus 
the  creed  of  Florence  Nightingale;  "I  believe  ...  in  the  service  of  man 


114     THE  EECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

in  this  individualistic  sense,  belongs  to  paganism  rather 
than  to  Christianity;  yet  it  was  rampant  in  pretty  nearly 
all  branches  of  the  Christian  church  during  the  nine- 
teenth century,  greatly  to  the  detriment  of  the  church, 
because  superficial  thinkers  took  it  to  be  one  of  the  typical 
expressions  of  Christian  religious  life. 

Even  nineteenth-century  humanitarianism  itself  be- 
came largely  perverted  by  the  pagan  tendencies  of  the 
age.  It  set  up  the  soft  and  effeminate  view  of  life  too 
often;  it  seemed  to  make  the  pleasure  and  happiness  of 
individuals  now  living  often  its  only  concern.  The  bar- 
baric standards  of  self-gratification  and  self-indulgence, 
rather  than  those  of  social  conservation  and  social  devel- 
opment, were  all  too  frequently  advocated  in  the  name 
of  humanitarian  ideas.  Thus  the  word  in  the  minds  of 
some  became  associated  with  hedonistic  social  ethics  and 
with  pampering  social  practices.  It  became  opprobrious, 
therefore,  to  those  who  saw  that  right  human  living  in- 
volved higher  aims  than  mere  relief  from  suffering  and 
the  accumulation  of  pleasant  experiences. 

Thus  it  is  evident  that  pagan  ideas  and  ideals  of  life 
in  general  lay  behind  the  anti-Christian  politics  and  anti- 
Christian  business  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Our 

being  the  service  of  God,  the  growing  into  a  likeness  with  him  by 
love,  the  being  one  with  him  at  last,  which  is  Heaven" — would  appeal 
to  many  not  as  "mysticism,"  but  as  "the  essence  of  common  sense." 
It  must  be  admitted  that  mysticism  is  a  relative  matter,  as  there  is 
normally  an  element  of  mysticism  in  all  religion,  as  was  granted  in 
Chapter  I.  It  is  only  when  the  mystic  element  is  ascendant  that  there 
is  danger  of  irrationality  and  anti-social  tendencies.  Subordinated  to 
rationality,  it  is  as  harmless  in  religion  as  the  sense  of  mystery  is  in 
science.  The  terms  "mystic"  and  "mysticism"  should  therefore  be 
reserved  for  those  cases  in  which  the  supremacy  of  intelligence  and 
reason  is  denied.  For  discussions  of  the  place  of  mysticism  in  re- 
ligion, see  the  works  of  Hocking  and  Lcuba  above  mentioned.  For  a 
careful,  brief  survey,  see  Coe,  The  Psychology  of  Religion,  Chapter 
XVI. 


OUR  SEMI-PAGAN  CIVILIZATION        115 

analysis  might  go  into  further  details  to  show  how  the 
taint  of  pagan  barbarism  clung  to  practically  everything 
in  nineteenth-century  civilization ;  but  our  object  has  been 
merely  to  show  that  that  civilization  was  dominantly  non- 
Christian  in  character,  a  conclusion  which  is  a  mere 
truism  to  those  who  know  both  what  the  Christian  ideal 
of  life  is,  and  what  nineteenth-century  civilization  was. 
With  scientific  fairness  we  can  say  that  the  ruling  classes 
in  Europe  and  America  in  the  nineteenth,  century  ac- 
cepted a  "conventional"  Christianity,  but  that  they  rarely 
permitted  it  to  interfere  with  the  "mores"  which  con- 
trolled the  practical  affairs  of  their  life.1  They  found  it 
vastly  easier  to  be  conventional  Christians  than  to  be 
genuine  followers  of  Jesus.  In  general  they  were  careful 
not  to  let  Christianity  disturb  the  established  order.  And 
there  is  surely  no  evidence  to  show  that  as  yet  our  civili- 
zation has  changed  its  character.2  We  are  still  trying  to 

1  While  perhaps  not  unbiased,  the  report  of  the  Japanese  Com- 
mission in  1919,  which  investigated  religious  conditions  in  the  United 
States,  that  "there  is  little  evidence  that  the  Christian  religion  is 
regarded  as  important  by  most  of  the  people,"  deserves  consideration, 
as  it  tells  us  how  our  civilization  appears  to  enlightened  non- 
Christians. 

*  In  a  remarkable  manifesto  issued  in  May,  1921,  by  such  leaders 
of  religious  thought  in  Great  Britain  as  Dr.  L.  P.  Jacks,  Dr.  W.  B. 
Selbie,  Dr.  John  Clifford,  and  Dr.  A.  E.  Garvie  the  utmost  appre- 
hension is  still  expressed.  If  to  American  readers  their  tone  seems 
too  pessimistic,  it  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  British  thinkers  stand 
nearer  to  the  hard  problems  of  our  civilization  than  we  do.  The 
manifesto  in  part  follows:  "No  lover  of  mankind  or  of  progress,  no 
student  of  religion,  of  morals,  or  of  economics,  can  regard  the  present 
trend  of  affairs  without  feelings  of  great  anxiety.  Civilization  itself 
seems  to  be  on  the  wane.  .  .  .  The  nations  are  filled  with  mistrust 
and  antipathy  for  each  other,  the  classes  have  rarely  been  so  an- 
tagonistic, while  the  relation  of  individual  to  individual  has  seldom 
been  so  frankly  selfish. 

"The  vast  destruction  of  life  by  war  and  the  acute  suffering  which 
the  war  created  seem  to  have  largely  destroyed  human  sympathy.  .  .  . 
Never  was  greater  need  of  all  those  qualities  which  make  the  race 
human,  and  never  did  they  appear  to  be  less  manifest. 

"It  is  becoming  increasingly  evident  that  the  world  has  taken  a 


116     THE  KECONSTRUCTION  OF  KELIGIOtf 

build  our  world  upon  the  rotten  foundations  laid  by  the 
nineteenth  century ! 

However,  it  is,  of  course,  true  that  in  the  nineteenth 
century  we  find  the  dawn  of  a  better  civilization  breaking 
practically  everywhere.  This  was  true  even  of  Germany, 
where,  in  spite  of  militarism,  Machiavellian  state  craft, 
and  neo-pagan  philosophy  and  literature,  there  were 
philosophers,  educators,  religious  workers,  and  political 
leaders  who  stood  firmly  by  humanitarian  ideals.  Indeed, 
it  was  only  in  the  last  few  decades  previous  to  the  begin- 
ning of  the  Great  War,  that  marked  retrogression  in  cer- 
tain circles  and  classes  toward  pagan  and  barbarous  ideals 
of  life  took  place  in  Western  civilization.  But  this  re- 
kindling of  paganism  found  a  world  poorly  organized  to 
resist  its  spread.  Everywhere  practically  the  forces  of 
good  were  disorganized.  Good  men  emphasized  their  dif- 
ferences, and  instead  of  pulling  together,  pulled  apart. 
This  was  especially  true  of  the  Christian  church;  but  it 
was  also  true  of  the  humanitarian  forces  outside  of  the 
church.  Even  among  the  most  advanced  social  idealists 
there  was  such  confusion  and  disagreement,  oftentimes 
even  with  respect  to  fundamental  principles,  that  they 
could  not  work  effectively  together.  On  the  other  hand, 

wrong  turn,  which,  if  persisted  in,  may  lead  to  the  destruction  of 
civilization." 

In  a  similar  spirit  Professor  L.  T.  Hobhouse  expresses  himself  In 
the  July,  1921,  issue  of  The  Sociological  Review  (p.  125)  :  "The  ques- 
tion of  the  survival  of  civilization,  which  month  by  month  becomes 
more  doubtful  and  more  urgent,  does  not  depend  upon  political  insti- 
tutions alone.  Fundamentally,  it  is  a  question  of  the  available 
amount  of  moral  wisdom  in  mankind." 

One  must  add  that  the  Treaty  of  Versailles  and  the  lack  of  concern 
shown  by  the  United  States  and  the  Allies  for  the  rehabilitation  of 
Russia  and  Germany  are  further  grounds  for  apprehension.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  seeming  success  of  the  Conference  on  the  Limitation 
of  Armament  at  Washington  is  ground  for  hope.  Even  if  the  Con- 
ference is  successful,  liowcvor,  it  is  well  to  remember  that  it  is  "only 
the  first  motion  toward  the  first  step  toward  real  disarmament." 


OUR  SEMI-PAGAN  CIVILIZATION        117 

the  sinister  forces  readily  and  easily  combined,  until  their 
power  much  overmatched  the  forces  which  made  for  peace, 
good  will,  and  solidarity  among  men.  The  result  was  the 
long  swing  back  toward  barbarism  among  the  nations  of 
Christendom  which  finally  became  visible  in  the  Great 
War,  and  in  the  breaking  out  of  civil  strife  between 
classes  in  some  nations. 

Now  this  recrudescence  of  barbarism  shows  conclusively 
enough  that  our  civilization  can  no  longer  remain  half 
pagan  and  half  Christian.  It  must  soon  become  one  or  the 
other.  We  have  come  to  the  parting  of  the  ways.  Unless  the 
world  becomes  speedily  Christian,  it  is  bound  to  become 
speedily  pagan.  We  cannot  tolerate  pagan  standards  in 
business,  in  politics,  in  education,  in  art,  literature  and 
science  without  coming  to  repudiate  the  Christian  ideal 
of  life  altogether.  The  half-and-half  standards  of  our 
previous  civilization  will  no  longer  work  in  the  complex 
and  tremendously  dynamic  social  world  of  the  present. 
If  it  be  said  that  our  civilization  has  always  been  half 
pagan  and  half  Christian  and  that  it  will  doubtless  con- 
tinue to  be  so,  it  must  be  said  in  reply  that  the  events 
of  the  last  few  years  and  our  present  situation  show  that 
it  cannot  remain  so.  "Nothing  can  prevent  mankind," 
says  a  thoughtful  writer,  "from  sinking  beneath  the  tre- 
mendous temptations  due  to  modern  wealth  and  power 
save  the  creation  of  a  strong  religious  life  which  shall 
lead  us  to  consecrate  our  control  over  nature  to  the  process 
of  bringing  in  the  Kingdom  of  God."  *  Modern  physical 
science  has  now  put  such  terrible  agencies  of  destruction 
in  the  hands  of  man  that  good  'will  is  needed  as  never 
before  if  men  are  not  mutually  to  destroy  one  another. 
We  dare  no  longer  live  together  upon  the  old  basis  of  a 

1  G.  B.  Smith,  Social  Idealism  and  the  Changing  Theology,  p.  153. 


118     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  EELIGI01ST 

balance  of  power  and  of  selfish  interests.  In  the  next 
war,  we  are  told  by  experts,  tanks  as  large  as  battleships 
will  crush  out  our  cities,  while  poison  gases  will  stifle 
whole  communities  within  a  few  hours.  Mankind  must 
end  war  or  war  will  end  civilization.1 

Yet  war  cannot  come  to  an  end  until  men  get  rid  of 
their  illusions  that  classes  or  nations  can  live  together  in 
peace  without  good  will  and  justice.  Only  the  restoration 
of  the  ideals  of  good  will,  justice,  and  brotherhood  within 
nations,  moreover,  can  prevent  the  breaking  out  of  inter- 
minable civil  strife  among  classes,  such  as  Russia  has 
presented  to  our  gaze.  Just  as  within  the  American  union, 
therefore,  there  came  a  time  when  the  nation  could  no 
longer  exist  half  slave  and  half  free,  so  in  Western  civili- 
zation the  time  has  arrived  when  we  can  no  longer  remain 
half  pagan  and  half  Christian.  Either  we  must  proceed 
to  develop  our  civilization  speedily  along  the  lines  of  the 
pattern  ideas  of  justice,  brotherhood,  and  good  will  of  the 
Christianity  of  the  Gospels,  or  the  world  will  go  back  to 
barbarism.  All  other  ideals  of  life  have  been  tried  and 
have  failed. 

There  is  need,  therefore,  at  the  present  moment  of  a 
stalwart  religion,  a  Christianity  which  shall  bend  its 
energies  to  making  our  whole  civilization  conform  to  the 
Christian  ideal  of  life.  £  Such  a  Christianity  must  be 
necessarily  non-theological,  because  theology  remains  a 
realm  of  speculation  and  of  disputation  and  divides  rather 
than  unites  men.  Such  a  Christianity  must  be  thoroughly 
social;  it  must  consider  none  of  the  great  fields  of  the 
social  activity  of  mankind  alien  to  its  interest.  Such  a 
Christianity  must  base  itself  upon  the  facts  of  life,  and 
ally  itself  with  humanitarian  science. 
1  See  Irwin,  The  Next  War.  An  Appeal  to  Common  Sense. 


CHAPTER  V 

POSITIVE   CHRISTIANITY   THE  RELIGION   OF  HUMANITY 

TnEjfouxth  thing  needed  for  the  reconstruction  of  re- 
ligion, so  that  it  shall  be  adapted  to  the  requirements  of 
modern  life,  is  that  religion  be  based  upon  facts  and^so 
brought  into  harmony  with  positive  science.  Aswe  have 
already  pointecTout,  the  outstanding  and  dominating  thing 
in  modern  civilization  is  science.  Much  of  the  science 
of  the  present,  however,  is  partial,  incomplete,  and  not 
based  upon  facts,  not  at  least  upon  all  of  the  facts.  When 
we  speak  of  a  positive  religion  which  shall  harmonize 
with  positive  science  we  mean  a  religion  which  is  based 
not  upon  a  few  of  the  facts  of  man's  life — say,  the  phys- 
ical— but  upon  all  of  the  facts.  A  religion  which  has 
respect  to  all  the  facts  of  the  total  life  of  mankind  will  be 
in  harmony  with  the  spirit  of  true  science.  /When  we 
have  a  religion  which  is  truly  positive  and  a  science  which 
i^  the  same,  there  will  be  no  longer  any  need  of  recon- 
ciling the  two.  The  former  will  be  simply  the  projection 
and  universalization  of  the  values  found  in  the  latter. 

^fhe  word  "positive"  we  use  in  the  same  sense  as  used 
by  Gomte*  and  by  modern  science  in  general,  meaning, 
""founded  upon  fact,"  not  upon  mere  opinions  or  specula- 
tion. A^  positive  religion,  therefore,  means  one  based 
upon  experience,  .iip£n_objective  realities.  It  means,  ac- 
cordingly, something  socially  constructive,  and  affirmative 
rather  than  merely  negative.  (  It  is  not  a  religion  of  nega- 
tions or  of  mere  prohibitions,  but  is  practical,  dealing 
with  the  actual  facts  of  human  life  and  experience  as  it  | 

119 


120     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

finds  them.  It  is  not  a  religion  of  doubts,  accordingly, 
but  of  affirmations.  /  It  is,  in  short,  a  religion  of  sanity, 
insisting  that  man  shall  build  his  faith  in  his  world  and 
his  ideal  of  life,  his  universal  values,  upon  all  the  facts 
of  his  experience.  And  it  insists  that  this  experience  is 
ajsocial  experience  and  that  his  ideal  must,  accordingly, 
be  a  social  ideal,  his  values,  social  values. 

Christianity  if  it  is  to  survive  must  become  a  positive 
religion  in  the  sense  just  indicated. "  It  must  pass  out  of 
tjiejheological  and  speculative  stage  into  the  positive  and 
social  stage.  It  must  be  purged  of  its  mythological  ele- 
ments. When^Comte  in  the  later  years  of  his  life  came 
to  appreciate  the  importance  of  religion  in  the  social  life 
of  man,  seeing  that  social  reconstruction  was  impossible 
without  enlisting  on  its  side  man's  emotions,  instincts,  and 
will,  that  is,  impossible  without  the  essentially  religious 
attitude  of  mind,  he  proposed  a  "Religion  of  Humanity." 
The  religion  which  Comte  established  was  essentially 
Christianity  minus  its  theology.  Comte  accepted  without 
qualification  the  essential  etKics  of  Christianity.  The 
highest  command  of  his  new  religion  was  to  be  the  law 
of  service — "live  for  others" — which,  as  he  himself  rec- 
ognized, was  manifestly  but  stating  in  modern  vernacular 
the  Christian  law  of  service.  /  It  is  strange,  indeed,  that 
Comte  did  not  perceive  that  the  Christianity  of  the  Gos- 
pels was  in  accord  with  the  Religion  of  Humanity  which 
he  sought  to  set  up.%'  But  Christianity  in  Comte's  mind 
was  synonymous  with  the  ecclesiastical  and  theological 
systems  of  his  day,  and  it  was,  accordingly,  impossible 
for  him  to  see  in  Christianity  the  Religion  of  Humanity 
which  he  sought.  He  was  unable  to  conceive  that  Chris- 
tianity itself  might  enter  into  the  positive  stage  and  be- 
come a  real  Religion  of  Humanity. 


POSITIVE  CHRISTIANITY  121 

Comte's  Religion  of  Humanity  failed  to  take  root  ami 
is  now  all  but  extinct.  But  organized  Christianity,  in  the 
countries  where  it  has  had  the  freest  development,  in  con- 
tact "with  the  social  life  on  the  one  hand,  and  science  and 
facts  on  the  other,  has  steadily  progressed  toward  the 
positive  stage.  It  has  more  and  more  unfolded  its  latent 
capacities  to  become  that  true  religion  of  humanity  which 
Comte  saw  to  be  necessary  to  bring  about  any  real  and 
lasting  social  progress.  As  evidence  of  the  progress  of 
present  Christianity  toward  the  positive  and  humanitarian 
stage  of  development,  the  comments  of  two  European-born 
observers  on  the  development  of  religion  in  the  United 
States  are  interesting.  Says  Henry  Bargy  in  his  La 
Religion  dans  la  Societe  aux  Etats-Unis:  l 

"As  dogma  has  never  seemed  to  Americans  the  vital 
part  of  religion,  so  has  agreement  upon  dogma  never 
seemed  to  them  the  condition  of  moral  unity;  they  think 
that  people  may  have  the  same  country  without  having  the 
same  theology.  They  make  fraternity,  the  actual  form  of 
which  is  social  solidarity,  the  essence  of  Christianity. 
The  moral  unity  for  which  they  strive  under  the  name  of 
Christian  unity  is  only  the  co-operation  of  all  for  the  in- 
creased establishment  of  fraternity  and  solidarity.  Higii 
above  sects  whose  diversity  seems  a  matter  of  indifference 
to  them  they  organize  a  religion  which  pervades  society 
throughout  its  length  and  breadth,  and  tends  toward  being 
only  a  social  spirit  touched  by  the  evangelical  feeling.  At 
the  time  of  the  Puritans  it  was  a  religion  of  race,  as  it 
had  been  with  the  Hebrews  a  religion  of  tribe;  in  pro- 
portion as  the  conception  of  the  race  enlarges  so  as  to 

1Pp.  XVI -XVIII.  This  book,  though  it  presents  inspiring  ideals 
rather  than  a  careful  survey,  deserves  translation  into  English  (Li- 
brairie  Armand  Colin,  Paris,  1902.) 


122     THE  KECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

extend  to  the  entire  human  race,  it  becomes  a  religion  of 
humanity.  All  the  groups  from  all  the  points  of  thought 
find  a  basis  of  unity  in  the  homage  paid  to  human  virtue 
and  human  progress.  Positivism  has  consummated  the 
moral  unity  of  the  nation.  .  .  . 

"This  moral  unity  is  indeed  a  religious  unity  and  a 
Christian  unity;  this  positivism  is  a  Christian  positivism. 
American  humanism  has  received  from  Christianity  all 
the  traditional,  sentimental,  and  poetical  elements  which 
distinguish  a  religion  from  a  philosophy.  American  posi- 
tivism is  only  a  Christianity  which  has  evolved.  As  the 
first  colonists,  in  their  zeal,  had  made  God  the  servitor 
of  their  new-born  society,  and  placed  religion  at  the 
service  of  the  ideal  humanity  which  they  believed  them- 
selves to  be  organizing,  contemporary  humanitarian  phi- 
losophy has  encountered  nothing  contrary  to  it  in  the 
churches  of  the  United  States:  it  has  made  use  of  them 

7  r*. 

as  frames  all  ready  for  it  to  take  form  in./  The  American 
religion  may  be  called  a  Christian  positivism,  or  a  posi- 
tive Christianity.  '  It  has  received  from  the  past  the  tra- 
ditional and  the  evangelical  spirit.  Traditional,  it  pre- 
serves the  names  and  the  forms  of  the  churches  even  when 
it  changes  their  customs;  it  develops  them  from  within. 
Evangelical,  it  keeps  the  figure  of  Christ  before  all,  even 
when  it  does  not  recognize  his  divinity.  American  posi- 
tivism, so  akin  to  that  of  Auguste  Comte  that  Channing, 
after  1830,  looked  to  France  for  the  religion  of  the  future, 
is  distinguished  for  its  religious  character,  and  is  con- 
ciliatory, not  combative.  In  their  tolerance  for  the  past, 
from  which  they  disengage  the  future,  Americans  deserve 
the  title  'positivist'  more  than  did  Comte,  since  they  not 
only  neglect  the  discussion  of  metaphysics,  but  ignore 
them.  While  the  disciples  of  Comte  have  been  able  to 
produce  only  a  parody  of  religion,  American  positivism 


POSITIVE  CHRISTIANITY  123 

i 

Las  its  temples,  clergy,  followers,  which  are  no  other  than 
those  of  Christian  churches.     One  may  conceive  a  posi- 
tivism with  a  God,  as  one  may  conceive  a  republic  with  a    . 
king;  it  is  sufficient  that  the  king  be  the  servant  of  the 
people,  and  God,  that  of  humanity." 

In  a  similar  spirit  a  former  student  of  the  author,  writ- 
ing of  the  American  church  from  the  point  of  view  of 
the  Jewish  immigrant,  says: 

"I  had  expected  mysticism  and  had  found  common 
sense.  In  my  half  knowledge  of  the  church  on  the  one 
hand  and  the  American  ideal  on  the  other,  I  had  looked 
for  another  of  those  hypocritical  exhibitions  of  which  I 
had  seen  many  in  my  native  country,  where  men  prac- 
tised one  thing  and  pretended  belief  in  the  opposite.  I 
had  looked  for  humbug  and  had  found  the  most  perfect 
honesty.  I  had  looked  for  self  contradictions,  for  solemn 
professions  of  faith  in  far-away  impracticable  abstrac- 
tions, for  pretenses  of  submission  to  an  ideal  of  humility 
and  non-resistance  and  supineness,  and  I  had  found  what  ? 
A  clear-eyed,  level-headed,  sane  body  of  principles  such 
as  a  practical  modern  man  could  believe  in.  I  had  stum- 
bled upon  a  discovery.  For  the  first  time  in  human  his- 
tory, as  far  as  I  knew,  a  people  had  evolved  a  creed  that 
was  in  harmony  with  their  lives  and  with  their  ambi- 
tions. .  .  . 

"The  American  religion,  I  saw,  was  a  vital,  practical 
religion.  If  it  was  ethical,  it  was  concretely  so,  and  cared 
nothing  about  the  philosophical  abstractions  underlying 
good  and  evil.  It  asked  people  to  be  good  in  order  that 
the  good  they  craved  might  come  to  them.  .  .  ."  1 

These  generous  comments  of  disinterested  observers  of  ) 

JM.  E.  Ravage  in  The  Century,  January,  1918. 


124:     THE  RECONSTBTTCTION  OF  KELIGIOff 

our  religions  life  are,  however,  more  favorable  than  the 
facts  altogether  warrant.  If  the  picture  were  entirely 
true,  there  would  be  no  need  of. this  boojv.  There  is  still, 
even  in  the  United  States,  much  religion  of  the  narrow, 
ecclesiastical,  and  theological  type,  unadapted  to  the  re- 
quirements of  modern  life;  and  in  Western  civilization, 
as  a  whole,  organized  Christianity  is  very  far  indeed  from 
the  socialized  and  positive  type.  While  a  humanized  and 
socialized  Christianity  has  been  gradually  rising  during 
the  last  generation  among  the  leading  nations  of  Europe 
and  America,  organized  Christianity,  as  yet,  is  only  be-* 
ginning  to  enter  upon  the  positive  stage.  It  is  our  pur- 
pose to  show  how  the  development  in  this  direction  can 
be  hastened,  how  Christianity  may  become  such  a  religion 
of  humanity  as  will  subordinate  the  socially  negative  ele- 
ments in  our  culture  and  establish  humanitarian  civiliza- 
tion upon  a  firm  basis. 

A  word  of  caution  is  necessary  here.  Positive  religion 
does  not  imply  the  agnostic  and  negative  attitude  which 
Comte  maintained  toward  many  of  the  essential  elements 
in  religious  life.  These  agnostic  and  negative  elements 
in  Comte's  teachings  were  the  outcome  of  the  spirit  of 
his  age  and  of  his  particular  environment,  rather  than 
any  necessary  result  of  a  positive,  objective,  scientific  at- 
titude toward  religion.  Absolute  agnosticism,  or  a  nega- 
tive attitude  toward  ultimate  reality  which  must  be  the 
supreme  object  of  religion,  so  far  from  being  consistent 
with  the  positive  and  scientific  attitude  of  mind,  is  wholly 
inconsistent  with  it.1  Comte,  in  other  words,  made  the 
great  mistake  of  thinking  that  religion  could  be  an  en- 
tirely subjective  affair,  and  that  man  might  take  a  nega- 

1  The  positive  attitude  in  science  and  philosophy  implies,  not  a 
subjectivism,  as  some  critics  have  mistakenly  maintained,  but  rather 
a  critical  realism. 


POSITIVE  CHRISTIANITY  125 

tive  attitude  toward  his  universe  but  retain  a  positive  at- 
titude toward  himself  and  his  own  destiny.  This,  as 
Caird  has  pointed  out  in  his  criticism  of  Comte,1  was  un- 
doubtedly a  contradiction  in  terms.  A  purely  subjective 
religion  is  an  absurdity.2  Such  a  religion  would  be  very 
far  from  a  positive  religion,  a  religion  based  upon  all  of 
the  facts  of  human  experience.  No  such  subjective  re- 
ligion is  here  proposed.  Rather  our  aim  will  be  to  show 
that  a  social  and  positive  Christianity,  will  be  a  Chris- 
tianity robbed  of  none  of  its  essential  elements,  though 
reduced  to  its  purest  form;  and  that  such  a  Christianity 
vis  the  only  religion  which  will  meet  the  needs  of  the  mod- 
ern world.  ~~} 

Yet  another  word  of  caution  is  needed  on  the  other  side. 
While  Comte  was  wrong  in  his  subjectivism  and  agnosti- 
cism, yet  all  must  admit  that  he  was  essentially  right  in 
saying  that  (it  is  psychologically  impossible  for  man  to 
worship  anything  but  the  highest  and  best  which  he  finds 
in  himself.  Religion,  in  other  words,  as  we  have  already 
pointed  out,  must  draw  all  of  its  values  from  the  social 
life  of  man,  for  psychologically  it  has  QO  other  source^A 
from  which  to  draw  them.  This  is  wholly  the  case  with 
Christianity.  Its  doctrines  of  the  divine  fatherhood,  of 
human  brotherhood,  of  love,  of  service,  of  self-sacrifice 
for  the  sake  of  service,  are  all  manifestly  drawn  from 
the  higher  experiences  and  values  of  social  life.3  What 
man  must  worship,  therefore,  in  religion  as  Comte  in- 
sisted, are  those  ideals  of  character  and  conduct,  of  per- 
sonality and  society,  which  he  has  gotten  from  his  social 


1  The  Social  Philosophy  of  Comte,  especially  pp.  163-170. 
'  The  religious  consciousness,  as  has  often  been  pointed  out,  de- 
mands objectivity  quite  as  much  as  the  scientific  consciousness. 
•  See  Chapter  II,  pp.  39-42. 


126     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 
A 
life.     But  these  ideals  cannot  be  worshipped  as  abstract, 

subjective  values;  they  must  be  projected  into  the  uni- 

In  concrete  livmg~personalities. 


Religion  is  imdelrmihecr^  for  reasons~which  we  shall  soon 
see,  whenever  this  projection  and  universalization  of  social 
values  is  denied  to  the  religious  attitude  of  mind.  The 
negative  attitude  toward  life  and  the  universe  which  we 
find  often  in  materialistic  speculation  and  in  agnostic 
opinion  is  necessarily  deadly  to  religion.  Religion  has  a 
right  to  attack,  in  the  name  of  humanity,  such  subjective 
metaphysics  and  socially  negative  doctrines  which  some- 
times masquerade  under  the  name  of  science ;  and  in  doing 
so  religion  performs  a  real  service  to  science,  because  such 
doctrines  are  not  only  unproved,  but  are  not  in  accord 
with  what  are  the  seeming  facts  of  human  experience. 
But  positive  religion  does  not  deny  that  it  derives  its  con- 
cepts and  values  from  human  experience,  even  though  it 
projects  and  universalizes  them.  Thus  it  escapes  from 
negative  metaphysics  on  the  one  hand  and  from  any  at- 
tempt to  erect  a  metaphysical  system  on  the  other  hand. 
It  simply  bases  itself  upon  the  facts  and  needs  of  man's 
social  life,  universalizing  social  values  so  that  they  will 
come  to  individual  consciousness  in  the  intensest  way  and 
thus  aid  in  making  the  more  difficult  adjustments  re- 
quired of  the  individual  in  his  social  relationships. 

The  general  attitude  of  positive  religion  is,  then,  no 
different  from  positive  science,  except  that  it  carries  the 
process  of  universalization  a  step  further  on  the  side  of 
human  values.  Its  attitude  is  the  frank,  open-minded 
attitude  of  a  progressive  social  idealism,  that  of  a  learner 
rather  than  that  of  a  dogmatist.  It  is  not  on  the  defen- 
sive as  regards  positive  science,  a  science  based  on  facts 
rather  than  on  speculations.  The  truths  of  science,  if 
they  are  truths,  positive  religion  holds  will  do  religion 


POSITIVE  CHKISTIANITY  127 

good  rather  than  harm  in  the  long  run.  Indeed,  they  will 
be  the  very  means  by  which  religious  ends  of  the  right 
sort  can  be  realized.  For  a  truly  positive  science  will 
also  take  into  full  account  all  of  the  facts  and  needs  of 
man's  life.  It  will  also  be  humanitarian,  not  less  than 
positive  religion,  and  between  humanitarian  science  and 
humanitarian  religion  there  can  be  no  conflict.  Both  will 
join  hands  for  the  conquest  of  nature  and  the  redemption; 
of  humanity. 

What  then  will  be  the  distinguishing  features  of  Chris- 
tianity when  it  has  reached  the  positive  stage  of  develop- 
ment? In  brief,  it  will  become  "transfused  with  the 
spirit  and  transformed  by  the  method  of  modern  science." 
But  what  does  this  mean  ?  It  means  first  of  all  that  posi- 
tive Christianity  will  subordinate  theological  and  meta- 
physical questions.  This  does  not  mean  that  it  will  take 
a  wholly  negative  attitude,  as  we  have  already  said,  to- 
ward these  constructions  of  the  human  intellect.  Both  are 
doubtless  necessary  rational  disciplines,  necessary  intel- 
lectual tasks  which  the  human  mind  must  essay  from  time 
to  time  as  it  sees  its  fund  of  knowledge  growing  upon 
which  to  base  inferences  in  regard  to  ultimate  reality.1 
But  positive  Christianity  will  not  stress  the  theological 
side  of  religion  as  the  vital  thing  in  the  religious  life; 
rather  it  will  minimize  it.  The  world  is  rapidly  learn- 
ing that  it  can  get  along  very  well  with  a  much  smaller 
minimum  of  theology  than  it  had  formerly  supposed,  and 
perhaps  it  will  soon  discover  that  what  is  regarded  at  the 
present  time  as  the  minimum  may  be  still  further  re- 

1  For  a  recent  attempt  at  a  rational  theology  which  dodges  none  of 
the  issues  involved  and  which  recognizes  frankly  the  results  of  modern 
science,  see  Professor  E.  W.  Lyman's  book,  The  Experience  of  God  in 
Modern  Life. 


128     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

duced.  We  shall  try  to  point  out  later  what  appears  to 
be  the  requisite  minimum  of  theological  beliefs  necessary 
even  in  a  positive  Christianity. 

The  second  characteristic  of  positive  Christianity  is 
that  it  will  be  concretely  ethical.  It  will  be  social,  in 
other  words,  rather  than  theological,  fit  will  throw  the 
emphasis  in  religion  where  Jesus  threw  it,  upon  the  rela- 
tions of  men  to  one  another,  rather  than  upon  theological 
doctrine.1  It  will  insist,  as  Jesus  insisted,  that  religion 
and  morality  are  not  separable.  Religion,  as  the  right 
attitude  toward  universal  reality,  includes  morality,  the 
right  attitude  toward  man.  Religion  is  simply  morality 
raised  to  its  highest  power,  or  universalized  morality, 
while  morality  in  the  common  acceptance  of  the  term 
should  be  religion  brought  down  to  the  practical,  every 
day  relations  between  men.  This  practical  identification 
of  religion  and  ethics  will  be  a  chief  feature  of  socialized 
or  positive  Christianity,  for  as  soon  as  ethics  is  allowed 
to  become  divorced  from  religion,  as  we  have  seen,  it 
ceases  to  have  power  over  the  springs  of  character  and  con- 
duct in  the  mass  of  individuals.  The  social  efficiency  and 
strength  of  any  religion  has  always  been  directly  propor- 
tional to  its  power  to  enlist  the  religious  nature  of  man 
upon  the  side  of  ethical  ideals.  This  has  always  been  the 
peculiar  strength  of  historical  Christianity  in  its  periods 
of  highest  development.  The  subordination  of  theological 
questions  to  ethical  questions  in  the  teachings  of  Jesus 
was  not  an  accident.  It  was  rather  the  mark  of  the  high- 
est possible  evolution  of  religion.  ["  In  this  respect  as  in 
others  positive  Christianity  will  be  in  a  sense  a  return  to 
the  religion  of  Jesus.  , 

1  It  is  said  upon  good  authority  that  a  single  page  will  hold  all 
that  Jesus  said  upon  such  subjects  as  the  soul,  death,  immortality, 
and  eternity. 


"to  e**^      «  -  5^7  ?"' 

L-  W/fi*  •'•    ••'     '" 


i  ( •• 


POSITIVE  CHRISTIANITY  129 

j  A  third  characteristic  of  positive  Christianity  is  that 
it  wfll  be  collective  rather  than  individualistic,  It  will 
emphasize  the  relations  of  men  to  one  another  in  their 
concrete  social  life,  the  ^edeemoa  community,  the  re- 
deemed world,  the  kingdom  of  God'^upon  earth,  rather 
than  the  redemption  of  individual  souls. )  An  ethical 
Christianity  must  necessarily  make  the  community,  in- 
deed, as  much  its  concern  as  the  individual,  since  the  con- 
ditions of  the  community  surely  determine  in  greater  or 
less  degree  the  individual  life.  The  world  is  the  subject 
of  redemption  for  positive  Christianity.  There  is  every 
warrant  for  believing  that  this  was  the  attitude  of  Jesus. 
The  kingdom  of  God  which  he  announced  he  had  come  to 
establish  is  essentially  a  social  conception,  meaning  an 
order  of  human  society.1 

This  does  not  mean,  of  course,  that  the  individual  is 
to  be  neglected  by  positive  Christianity.  On  the  contrary, 
a  redeemed  society  presupposes  redeemed  individuals.  As 
humanity  is  not  something  apart  from  individuals,  it  can 
only  be  saved  through  saving  individuals.  But  positive 
Christianity  will  recognize  that  man  leads  a  collective  life 
and  that  the  conditions  of  that  life  make  or  mar  the  char- 
acter of  individuals.  Individualistic  methods  of  helping 
individuals  will  be  preserved  by  positive  Christianity,  for 
they  are  indispensable  in  any  right  social  life.  It  is  the 
humane,  the  brotherly  touch  which  does  most  to  help  under 
all  conditions.  Christianity  can  never  neglect  the  per- 
sonal work  of  individuals  for  individuals;  but  as  it  be- 
comes more  positive,  it  will  see  that  the  larger  economic, 
political,  and  cultural  conditions  even  more  need  to  be 
controlled  if  the  world  is  to  be  redeemed,  to  be  made  safe 

1  This  is  not  to  deny,  of  course,  that  this  expression  also  implied 
an  inner,  subjective,  personal  state.  As  a  spiritual  conception,  it 
necessarily  had  both  its  personal  and  social  sides.  See  further  dis- 
cussion on  page  17i. 


130     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

for  Christian  living.  While  on  the  one  hand  positive 
Christianity  will  reaffirm  the  preciousness  of  every  indi- 
vidual soul,  the  idea  that  every  individual  should  be  re- 
garded as  an  end  in  himself,  it  will  lay  its  chief  emphasis 
upon  the  need  of  creating  an  ideal  human  society,  a  king- 
dom of  God  upon  earth. 

A  fourth  characteristic  of  positive  Christianity  is  that 
it  will  be  active  toward  all  human  things  rather  than 
merely  contemplative.  A  Christianity  which  is  mere  be- 
lieT  or  faith  cannot  possibly  be  regarded  as  positive  Chris- 
tianity. If  religion  is  to  be  ethical  and  social  in  char- 
acter it  must  also  be  active.  Positive  Christianity  must 
be  in  a  very  true  sense  a  militant  movement,  directed 
against  all  the  forces  that  oppress  and  degrade  men.  It 
is  the  moral  substitute  for  war.  It  can  have  no  patience 
with  the  idea  that  there  is  anything  not  subject  to  the 
Christian  ideal  of  life.  Positive  Christianity  is  distinctly, 
therefore,  a  radical,  even  a  revolutionary  movement,  not 
in  the  sense,  of  course,  that  it  will  rely  upon  force,  or 
that  it  hopes  to  usher  in  the  millennium  by  some  sudden 
transformation  of  the  social  order.  But  it  is  revolu- 
tionary in  its  ideal  of  life,  and  it  must  be  aggressive  in 
its  methods  of  dealing  with  evils  that  beset  our  social 
life.  Positive  Christianity  can  be  no  milk  and  water 
affair.  Just  as  Jesus  did  not  contemplate  that  love  might 
mean  merely  a  passive  good  will,  so  positive  Christianity 
will  insist  that  the  fruit  of  the  Christian  ideal  is  aggres- 
sive effort  to  suppress  the  evil  forces  in  our  civilization, 
and  to  establish  a  society  in  which  the  ideals  of  justice,  of 
fraternity,  and  of  mutual  service  are  realized. 

It  follow^  from  this  that  a  fifth  characteristic  of  posi- 
tive Christianity  is  that  it  will  be  constructive  and  affirma- 
tive gather  than  merely  negative.     Tt  will  not  be  so~much 
j  a  series  of  prohibitions  as  a  definite  positive  program  for 


POSITIVE  CHKISTIANTTY  131 

both  individual  and  social  life.  It  may  have  at  times  to 
destroy  inrorderto'niako  a  place  for  the  good,  but  it  will 
destroy  only  for  the  sake  of  upbuilding  something  posi- 
tive. It  will  seek  to  replace  the  negative  ethics  of  bar- 
barism and  of  early  civilization  by  a  constructive  program 
of  social  betterment^  This  again  represents  the  attitude 
of  Jesus.  The  negative  attitude  of  the  Old  Testament  he 
replaced  by  the  positive,  constructive  social  morality  of 
the  New.  "^Positive  Christianity  cannot  be  an  affair  of 
"taboos."  ^ 

The  sixth  characteristic  of  positive  Christianity  is  that 
it  will  be  cooperative  in  its  spirit.  It  will  recognize  the 
fundamental  sociological  truth  that  ten  men  working  to- 
gether can  accomplish  what  one  hundred  cannot  accom- 
plish working  separately.  It  will  believe  in  organized 
effort  rather  than  in  merely  individualistic  right  living. 
The  church,  therefore,  in  positive  Christianity  must  take 
a  place  of  commanding  importance,  not  as  an  end  in  itself, 
but  as  an  indispensable  means  for  realizing  the  ends 
of  a  social  Christianity.  The  church,  as  the  organized 
followers  of  Jesus'  teaching,  must  enlist  the  enthusiastic 
service  and  loyalty  of  all  who  believe  in  the  Christian 
ideal  of  life.  This  in  no  way  places  the  church  above 
criticism,  but  on  the  contrary  renders  it  liable  to  the  most 
searching  criticism  as  to  its  efficiency  as  an  instrument 
for  the  establishment  among  men  of  the  Christian  ideal. 
The  church  must  be  regarded  strictly  as  a  means,  not  as 
an  end.  Nevertheless,  the  idea  of  following  the  teachings 
of  Jesus  in  secret  and  without  the  fullest  co-operation  with 
all  those  who  believe  in  those  teachings,  is  repugnant  to 
the  idea  of  a  social  and  positive  Christianity.  Religion 
cannot  be  a  private,  individualistic  affair  if  it  is  social  and 
scientific.  It  will  not  hide  itself,  but  will  undertake 


132     THE  EECONSTEUCTIO^  OF  KELIGIOST 

through  organized  effort  along  every  fruitful  line  of  en- 
deavor the  redemption  of  mankind. 

But  what  shall  be  the  attitude  of  positive  Christianity 
toward  the  essential  beliefs  of  all  higher  religions,  the 
belief  in  God,  the  belief  in  immortality,  and  the  belief  in 
the  reality  of  sin  and  of  salvation  from  sin?  The  reply 
is  that  a  positive  Christianity  will  reaffirm  these  beliefs 
as  a  part  of  the  universal  religious  consciousness  of  man- 
kind. They  are  not  the  peculiar  beliefs  of  Christianity, 
but  all  higher  religions  have  these  beliefs  in  some  form. 
What  form  will  they  take,  then,  in  positive  Christianity? 
Will  positive  Christianity,  like  Comte,  accept  as  its  Su- 
preme Being,  humanity  itself? 

As  we  have  already  pointed  out,  no  religion  can  be 
subjective  and  at  the  same  time  positive;  and  to  find  in 
humanity  the  supreme  reality,  into  harmony  with  which 
man  must  seek  to  come,  is  a  species  of  subjectivism.1  It, 


1  Such  religious  subjectivism  characterizes  not  only  the  Comtean 
positivists,  but  also  the  extreme  pragmatists  and  some  other  schools 
at  the  present  time.  Thus  Dr.  A.  E.  Haydon  in  an  article  on  "The 
Theological  Trend  of  Pragmatism"  (American  Journal  of  Theology, 
October,  1019,  p.  408)  says:  "Religion  becomes  enthusiasm  for  social 
Ideals.  .  .  .  Religion  will  still  persist.  .  .  .  Its  cult  will  be  the  web 
of  civilization."  So  also  Mr.  H.  G.  Wells  in  God,  the  Invisible  King 
(p.  61)  :  "He  is  the  undying  human  memory,  the  increasing  human 
will."  Dr.  G.  Stanley  Hall  also  declares  (Morale,  the  Supreme 
Standard  of  Life  and  Conduct,  p.  354)  :  "Belief  in  God  .  .  .  must  be 
subjectified."  But  many  of  these  subjectivists  in  religion  do  not 
hold  consistently  to  their  subjectivism.  Thus  Dr.  Hall  says  (op.  cit. 
p.  35G)  :  "The  supreme  object  of  worship  and  service  is  the  power, 
that  in  the  beginning  started  the  course  of  evolution  and  in  the  end 
became  the  power  that  makes  for  righteousness."  Even  Dr.  Haydon 
in  a  later  article  (Journal  of  Religion,  Vol.  I,  p.  196)  speaks  of 
religion  as  "just  the  way  we  orient  ourselves  to  cosmic  realities  in  the 
interests  of  our  larger  life."  We  safely  conclude  with  Professor 
Brightman  (Journal  of  Religion,  Vol.  I,  p.  366)  that  "the  need  for 
objectivity  is  at  the  basis  of  science,  philosophy,  and  religion."  For 
further  discussion,  see  the  articles  by  Professors  Ames  and  Hocking 
in  the  September,  1921,  Journal  of  Religion  (Vol.  I,  pp.  462-496). 


POSITIVE  CHRISTIANITY  133 

indeed,  denies  the  very  purpose  of  religion,  which  is  har- 
monious adaptation  to  all  of  the  conditions  of  human  life. 
To  say  that  humanity  is  the  sole  object  of  religious  ven- 
eration, worship,  and  love  is  like  saying  that  humanity 
needs  merely  to  adapt  itself  to  itself.  It  divorces  religion 
absolutely  from  science.  Our  religion  cannot  teach  one 
thing  and  our  science  another;  and  if  there  is  anything 
which  modern  science  clearly  teaches,  it  is  that  man  is  a 
part  of  nature,  a  part  of  a  system  of  things  immensely 
transcending  himself,  which  has  produced  him  and  made 
possible  all  of  his  works.  Man  does  not  cease  to  stand 
in  the  midst  of  nature  because  he  is,  as  an  individual,  the 
product  largely  of  his  civilization.  The  religious  con- 
sciousness no  more  than  the  scientific  consciousness  can 
stop  with  man  and  his  works.  In  a  certain  sense,  man  is 
incurably  a  nature  worshipper ;  that  is,  his  reverence,  his 
affection,  his  valuations  rise  from  man  to  the  ultimate 
reality  which  lies  behind  both  man  and  physical  nature. 
This  is  the  logical  as  well  as  the  instinctive  thing  for  man 
to  do;  for  if  religion  is  an  organ  of  adaptation,  it  must 
have  reference  both  to  man  and  to  the  universe  in  which 
he  lives,  moves,  and  has  his  being.1 

Indeed,  in  a  certain  sense,  the  universe  must  always  loom 
larger  in  the  religious  consciousness  than  man,  just  as  it 
does  in  the  scientific  consciousness.  Not  the  self-sufficiency 

1  "In  naturalistic  thought,"  said  the  late  Professor  Bowne,  "nature 
Is  the  rival  of  God.  Nature  does  a  great  many  things  and  God  does 
the  rest.  Traditional  religious  thought  has  shared  the  same  view,  and 
thus  nature  was  continually  threatening  to  displace  God.  God  was 
not  to  be  appealed  to  until  nature  had  been  shown  to  be  inadequate. 
Hence  the  dismay  in  popular  religious  thought  at  each  new  extension 
of  the  realm  of  law.  every  such  extension  being  regarded  as  subtracted 
from  the  control  of  God.  But  this  dismay  vanishes  entirely  when  it 
is  seen  that  God  is  the  'Infinite  and  Eternal  Energy  from  which  all 
things  proceed';  or  that,  in  Pauline  phrase,  'in  Him  we  live  and 
move  and  have  our  being.'  Now,  nature  is  no  rival  of  God,  but  the 
form  of  his  manifestation."— Hibbert  Journal,  July,  1910,  p.  888. 


134     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

of  man,  but  the  sufficiency  of  God  is  the  real  basis  of  re- 
ligion. Religion  demands  a  reality  beyond  man,  to  whick 
not  only  the  religious  consciousness  functions  as  a  means 
of  adjustment,  but  whose  law  and  order  compels  adjust- 
ment. It  demands  a  universe  of  law,  not  less  than  science 
does,  a  universe  whose  processes  bring  the  foolishness  and 
wickedness  of  men  to  naught.  Where  science,  however, 
sees  only  the  laws  of  physical  necessity,  religion  sees  a 
moral  order,  to  which  the  life  of  man  must  conform  itself, 
if  it  is  to  be  in  harmony  with  the  infinite. 

To  be  sure,  the  superficial  scientific  thinking  of  the 
nineteenth  century  often  went  out  of  its  way  to  deny  that 
there  were  any  moral  implications  in  the  law  and  order 
of  the  universe.  It  pointed  to  the  flood,  to  the  earth- 
quake, to  the  tornado,  to  the  struggle  for  existence,  as 
proof  positive  of  the  non-morality  of  nature  and  of  the 
power  which  lies  behind  physical  nature.  Such  views 
were,  of  course,  based  upon  the  assumption  that  the  moral 
is  synonymous  with  the  pleasant  and  the  agreeable.  To 
such  thinking  there  was  no  place  for  religion  as  a  means 
of  adapting  man  to  the  conditions  of  his  life,  of  putting 
him  in  harmony  with  his  universe.  The  moral  according 
to  this  view  is  something  not  to  be  learned  by  careful 
thinking,  but  was  immediately  known  by  the  subjective 
reactions  of  experience. 

Such  views  of  religion  and  morality  are,  of  course,  not 
in  keeping  with  the  conclusions  of  scientific  research ;  and 
along  with  such  views  must  vanish  our  conception  of  a 
non-moral  universe.1  The  moral  order  to  which  human 

1  Says  Conklin  (The  Direction  of  Human  Evolution,  p.  228)  :  "The 
possibilities  are  almost  infinity  to  one  against  the  conclusion  that  the 
order  of  nature,  the  fitness  of  environment,  and  the  course  of  pro- 
gressive evolution  with  all  its  marvellous  adaptations  are  all  the 
results  of  blind  chance.  ...  In  short,  science  reveals  to  us  a  univerge 
of  ends  as  well  as  of  means,  of  teleology  as  well  as  of  mechanism, 
and  in  this  it  agrees  with  the  teachings  of  philosophy  and  religion." 


POSITIVE  CHRISTIANITY  135 

living  must  conform  is  after  all  but  a  segment  of  the  cos- 
mic order.  The  laws  of  human  living  together  are  no  less 
a  part  of  the  laws  of  the  universe  than  the  laws  of  physics 
or  chemistry.  And  these  laws  of  human  living  together, 
or  rathei  the  perception  of  them,  is  what  gives  rise  to 
human  morality.  The  assumption  of  all  sane  religious 
thinking  must  be,  accordingly,  that  "only  man  is  vile."  1 
Otherwise,  indeed,  a  redemptive  religion  would  be  the 
most  useless  thing  in  the  world.  fj[f  the  universe  is  "vile," 
there  is  little  need  of  a  religious  consciousness  in  man  to 
adjust  himself  to  it.  ^ 

Without  destroying  religion,  man  cannot,  then,  believe 
that  the  universe  is  a  "fool's  house"  which  will  bring  his 
highest  aspirations  and  his  best  endeavors  to  naught. 
Man  must  believe  that  there  is  a  meaning  in  existence  and 
in  the  system  of  things,  and  that  that  meaning,  while  he 
cannot  fully  comprehend  it,  yet  in  part  he  does  appre- 
hend. He  must  believe  that  the  universe  is  not  alien  to 
himself,  if  he  is  to  have  any  basis  upon  which  to  adjust 
himself  to  life  and  to  the  ultimate  reality  which  sur- 
rounds him.  'Nor  does  science  in  any  way  contradict  or 
refute  this  reasonable  faith.  Science  itself  shows  that 
man  is  a  product  of  the  universe,  and  to  ask  any  one  to 
believe  that  the  universe  is  absolutely  different  from  man 
is  to  deny  that  principle  of  continuity  upon  which  science 
builds  itself.  If  there  is  a  spiritual  element  in  man,  it 
cannot  have  come  out  of  nothing;  neither  can  it  be 
greater  in  man  than  in  the  universe,  for  that  would  be 

1  The  philosophy  of  the  eighteenth  century  was  wont  to  debate  the 
question  whether  this  was  "the  best  of  all  possible  worlds."  From 
the  hedonistic  standpoint  the  debate  was  idle.  But  if  the  universe  be 
judged  as  we  have  now  learned  to  judge  human  institutions — from 
their  educative  effect  upon  the  individual  and  the  race — then  some- 
thing might  still  be  said  in  favor  of  the  affirmative. 


136     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

equivalent  to  saying  that  man  is  greater  than  the  uni- 
verse. 

The  negations  of  philosophical  materialism  are  not, 
therefore,  supported  by  the  spirit  and  tendencies  of  mod- 
ern science.  While  science  may  he  far  from  offering  the 
full  measure  of  support  to  man's  religious  life  which  we 
may  wish,  yet  it  is  very  far  from  destroying  a  reasonable 
faith  in  the  system  of  things.  On  the  contrary,  in  its 
investigations  of  nature  it  is  coming  slowly  but  surely  to 
the  perception  of  a  Creative  Evolution,  which  is  imminent 
in  all  the  processes  of  nature.1  It  is  coming,  in  other 
words,  to  recognize  that  from  the  standpoint  of  man  there 
is  an  ascending  energy  in  the  universe ;  and  this  is,  after 
all,  the  substance  of  all  rational  religious  faith,  that  back 
of  man  and  his  works  is  an  ultimate  reality  which  makes 
human  life,  not  an  accident  and  meaningless  in  the  scheme 
of  things,  but  the  supreme  expression  of  an  infinite 
reality.2  Man's  projection  of  his  values  into  the  universe 
in  his  religious  attitudes  has,  therefore,  a  rational  as  well 
as  an  emotional  basis,  and  it  is  scarcely  probable  that  any 
religion  based  upon  science  will  deny  this ;  for  to  deny  it 
means  to  destroy  that  common  sense  which  is  the  basis  of 
both  sound  science  and  rational  religion,  and  to  plunge 

1  Says  Professor  Hohhouse  in  his  remarkable  work,  Development 
and  Purpose,  which  perhaps  presents  more  cogently  than  any  other 
book  the  modern  scientific  argument  for  theism,  though  it  seems 
little  known  to  most  theologians :  "It  is  submitted,  not  in  the  least  as 
a  matter  of  faith,  hut  as  a  sound  working  hypothesis,  that  the  evo- 
lutionary process  can  he  best  understood  as  the  effect  of  a  purpose 
slowly  working  itself  out  under  limiting  conditions."  (p  24.)  These 
"limiting  conditions,"  Professor  Lyman  points  out  rightly  (op.  cit. 
p.  130)  are  those  inherent  in  the  nature  of  a  developmental  process, 
not  extraneous  circumstances. 

*  "If  a  purpose  runs  through  the  world-whole,  there  is  a  Mind  of 
which  the  world  purpose  is  the  object." — Hobhouse  (op.  cit.  p.  365). 
"If  the  world  process  is  di reeled  toward  harmony,  we  legitimately 
infer  a  Mind  at  its  center."— Ilobhouse,  The  Rational  Good,  p.  230. 


POSITIVE  CHRISTIANITY  137 

into  the  confusions  and  absurdities  of  an  absolute  agnos- 
ticism. 

But  from  another  point  of  view  one  may  say,  with  equal 
truth,  that  humanity  looms  larger  in  a  rational  religious 
consciousness  than  the  universe  at  large.  This  is  because 
man  is  the  highest  expression  of  the  universe,  and  just  as 
it  would  be  insane  on  the  part  of  science  to  try  to  under- 
stand the  universe  without  taking  man  into  account,  so  it 
would  be  insane  on  the  part  of  religion  to  try  to  get  a 
valuation  of  the  universal  reality  without  getting  that 
valuation  primarily  through  man.  [  For  man  must  ever  be 
to  both  science  and  religion  the  highest  revelation  of  the 
nature  of  the  supreme  reality.  Indeed,  in  the  practical 
religious  consciousness  it  is  the  human  element  which 
plays  the  chief  part;  and  this  becomes  increasingly  so  as 
religion  becomes  more  ethical  and  social.  It  may  be  pos- 
sible to  have  a  dehumanized  science  which  takes  account 
of  nothing  except  physical  nature;  but  it  is  scarcely  pos- 
sible to  have  any  longer  a  dehumanized  religion.  In  this 
respect  religion  is  more  evolved  than  science.  And  it  is 
characteristic  of  Christianity  in  particular  that  it  throws 
its  emphasis  upon  the  human  in  religion  rather  than  upon 
the  non-human.  It  finds  its  revelation  of  the  divine  in 
the  highest  human.  It  finds,  in  other  words,  God  in  man, 
without  denying,  however,  that  God  is  in  nature  also.1 
It  is  the  peculiar  merit,  then,  of  Christianity  that  it  makes 
no  dualism  in  the  religious  consciousness,  by  setting  man 
off  as  something  apart  from  the  rest  of  the  universe.  It 
synthetizes  objective  and  subjective  religion.  It  reconciles 
the  human  and  the  cosmic,  by  finding  the  divine  in  both. 

1  Says  Dr.  John  Haynes  Holmes  (in  Unity,  January  13,  1921): 
"God  is  identified  with 'humanity  just  as  he  is  identified  with  nature; 
but  he  is  also  something  more  and  infinitely  greater  than  either  of 
these  worlds."  This  is  precisely  the  doctrine"  of  Christian  theiam. 


138     THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

!  But  the  divine  in  man  is  not  so  much  realized  as  some- 
thing to  be  realized.  It,  thus,  puts  religion  in  the  service 
of  human  evolution,  and  sets  up  a  religion  of  humanity 
without  destroying  the  religious  attitude  toward  nature 
and  the  ultimate  reality  which  lies  behind  nature.  It 
makes  religion  primarily  a  means  of  human  and  social 
adjustment  without  making  such  adjustment  a  mere  sub- 
jective matter  -within  humanity  or  an  adjustment  to  an 
ultimate  negation. 

Thus,  positive  Christianity  has  room  for  a  very  decided 
and  positive  belief  in  God,  a  God  who  manifests  himself 
in  nature,  not  only  as  creative  evolution,  but  in  human 
nature  and  in  human  society  as  the  spirit  leading  towards 
all  truth,  all  Tightness,  and  all  brotherhood.  Indeed,  one 
must  say,  with  the  French  author  whom  we  quoted  at  the 
beginning  of  this  chapter,  that  not  only  "one  may  conceive 
a  positivism  with  a  God,"  but  that  one  can  conceive  a 
truly  positive  religion  in  no  other  way.  BuMhe  concep- 
tion of  God  which  positive  religion  ar rices. .at. is  very. dif- 
ferent from  many  of  the_vagaries  of  speculative  theology, 
iris  more  nearly  in  accord  Avith  the  conception  of  God 
which  Jesus  held.  When  we  turn  to  that  conception  in 
the  pages  of  the  first  three*' Gospels,  we  find  that  it  is  the 
simple  doctrine  of  the  fatherhood  of  God.  God,  the  ulti- 
mate reality,  which  has  produced  man  and  which  is  lead- 
ing us  upward  and  onward  toward  a  better  life  with  our 
fellows,  toward  a  fuller  realization  of  his  will,  stands  in 
relation  to  us,  according  to  Jesus,  even  as  a  loving  father 
stands  in  relation  to  his  children.  Thus  again,  positive 
Christianity  marks  a  return  to  the  simplicity  ami  humane- 
ness of  the  thought  of  Jesus.  Instead  of  fine-spun  theo- 
logical dogmas  concerning  God,  it  presents  the  simple 

s^y"  ^ 


POSITIVE  CHRISTIANITY  139 

faitli  that  the  creative  force  of  the  universe  stands  in  a 
fatherly  relation  to  us.1 

Positive  Christianity  will  be  characterized,  then,  by  a 
positive  and  unequivocal  belief  in  the  reign  of  God,  in 
a  moral  order  permeating  the  universe  to  which  men  must 
conform  if  they  are  to  be  successful  in  their  living  to- 
gether. Just  as  men  under  a  positive  and  scientific  con- 
ception of  nature  know  that  in  order  to  build  bridges  or 
sail  ships  successfully,  they  must  understand  and  conform 
to  the  laws  of  physical  nature,  so  under  a  positive  con- 
ception of  God  men  will  know  that  in  order  to  live  rightly 
and  happily,  they  must  understand  and  conform  to  the 
laws  of  harmonious  and  successful  living  together.  "Thus 
will  positive  Christianity  replace  arbitrary  and  mytho- 
logical  conceptions  of  God  by  a  conception  which  is  at 
once  moral  and  in  conformity  to  the  facts  of  experience. 
The  "Santa  Clans  conception  of  God,"  as  a  mysterious 
being  who  interferes  with  the  ordinary  course  of  nature 
to  bestow  special  favors  on  those  who  seek  to  please  him, 
will  be  replaced  by  the  conception  of  a  universal  moral 
reality  which  permeates  all  existence,  both  physical  and 
social,  and  which  is  the  creator  and  preserver  of  all  the 
good  that  man  has  known  or  cajLJoipw.2  The  autocratic 
conception  of  God,  as_a_forceroutside  df  the  universe  who 
rules  by  arbitrary  will  both  physical  nature  and  human 
history,  will  be  replaced  by  the  conception  of  a  spirit  im- 
minent in  nature  and  in  humanity  which  is  gradually 

1  Compare  the  statement  of  Hobhouse  (  The  Rational  Good,  p.  227  )  : 
"Reality  is  an  interconnected  system  which  develops  in  time,  the 
principle  of  rational  harmony  or  love  being  the  permanent  under- 
lying ground  of  development." 

"As  we  have  already  pointed  out  (p.  124),  the  soundest  religious 
tradition  has  never  attributed  the  evils  or  maladjustments  of  human 
life  to  God.  ^ays  Professor  Hobhouse:  "It  is  an  error  of  the 
religious  mind  to  identify  Reality  as  a  whole  (i.e.,  both  good  and 
evil)  with  God."  (op.  cit.  p.  229.) 


.  ,,..     .   . 
*•     • 


140     THE  EECO^STEUCTIOX  OF  KELIGION" 

working  out  the  supreme  good  in  the  form  of  an  ideal 
society  consisting  of  all  humanity.  The  materialistic  con- 
ception of  God,  if  we  may  so  call  it,  as  a  universe  of 
meaningless  play  of  energy,  alien  to  the  aspirations  of 
man,  will  be  replaced  by  a  conception  of  God  as  realizing 
himself  in  the  intelligence,  welfare,  and  fraternity  of  all 
humanity.  This  is  the  God,  as  a  modern  religious  thinker 
has  happily  said,  "who  strives  within  our  striving,  who 
kindles  his  flame  in  our  intellect,  sends  the  impact  of  hia 
energy  to  make  our  will  restless  for  righteousness,  floods 
our  subconscious  mind  with  dreams  and  longings,  and 
always  urges  the  race  on  toward  a  higher  combination  of 
freedom  and  solidarity."  And,  we  may  add,  this  is  the 
God  whom  Jesus  speaks  of  as  a  loving  father.  Such  a 
human,  personal,  and  social  conception  of  God  may  seem 
inadequate  to  the  scientific  mind,  but  if  it  is  inadequate, 
it  is  surely  inadequate  by  way  of  defect  and  not  by  way 
of  excess.1 

;  So,  likewise,  will  positive  Christianity  reaffirm  the  be- 
lief in  immortality.^  Both  sound  science  and  rational 
religion  forbid  the  belief  that  death  ends  all  for  human 
personality.  Sociology  and  anthropology  have  united  in 
showing  the  importance  of  the  individual  life,  not  only 
as  a  carrier  of  civilization,  but  as  a  modifier  of  civiliza- 
tion. It  is  individual  lives  which  make  up  our  human 
world,  in  other  words,  and  these  human  lives,  both  phys- 
ically and  culturally,  enter  into  the  enduring  life  of  hu- 
manity. In  his  religion  of  humanity  Comte  made  much 
of  this  subjective  immortality  of  the  Individual,  as  he 

1  We  need  also  to  remember,  as  Professor  Spaulding  pays  (The  New 
Rationalism,  p.  517)  :  "If  f?od  is  personality,  lie  is  also  more  than 
personality,  even  as  the  moral  situation  among  men  is  more  than 
personality."  In  the  same  spirit  Hobhouse  rightly  speaks  of  God  aa 
"guper-personal."  (op.  cit.  p.  228.) 


POSITIVE  CILRISTIANITY  141 

called  it.  According  to  him,  all  the  good  who  have  ever 
lived,  live  again  in  lives  made  possible  and  better  because 
of  their  existence,  while  the  bad  are  gradually  but  surely 
eliminated  from  the  life  of  humanity.  Since  Comte, 
science  has  demonstrated  this  subjective  immortality  of 
the  individual  to  be,  we  might  almost  say,  an  appalling 
fact — appalling  because  the  elimination  of  bad  influences 
is  probably  not  so  easy  or  so  certain  as  Comte  seemed  to 
imply. 

But  is  this  "immortality  of  influence"  the  only  im- 
mortality which  positive  Christianity  will  teach?  No 
doubt  the  non-theologically  minded  Christian  would  in 
most  cases  at  the  present  day  be  entirely  satisfied  if  he 
could  be  sure  that  all  the  good  which  he  tried  to  do  would 
live  on  after  him  in  the  enduring  life  of  humanity./  The 
true  Christian  is  not  very  much  concerned  about  his  per- 
sonal fate  in  a  world  beyond  death  if  he  has  lived  rightly 
in  the  present  world.  The  selfishness  of  that  peculiar 
type  of  Christian  who  foregoes  pleasures  in  this  world  in 
order  that  he  may  selfishly  enjoy  them  in  another  life  of 
longer  duration  does  not  appeal  to  him,  and  he  recognizes 
it  as  quite  alien  to  the  spirit  of  Jesus.  (  For  Jesus  con- 
cerned himself  but  little  with  the  question  of  existence 
after  death.  ^  Jesus  simply  took  for  granted  the  principle 
of  continuity  in  the  spiritual  world.  "In  my  father's 
house,"  he  says,  "there  are  many  rooms,  and  if  it  were 
not  so,  I  would  have  told  you." 

Yet,  the  belief  in  personal  immortality  cannot  be  dis- 
missed by  merely  saying  that  the  true  Christian  attitude 
in  this  matter  is  that  of  trust.  A  purely  subjective  im- 
mortality, such  as  Comte  taught,  is,  after  all,  a  contradic- 
tion in  terms,  and  positive  religion  cannot  remain  satis- 
fied with  such  a  statement  as  a  complete  and  reasonable 
religious  faith.  The  life  of  humanity,  science  plainly 


142     THE  KECOISTSTEUCTION  OF  EELIGIOJST 

teaches,  is  a  process  limited  in  time.  A  subjective  im- 
mortality is,  therefore,  an  immortality  limited  by  the  life 
of  the  race;  and  this  raises  the  much  bigger  problem 
whether  the  life  of  humanity  is  itself  a  meaningless 
process.  For  a  process  which  begins  in  a  blank  and  ends 
in  a  blank  is  surely  meaningless.  The  whole  conception., 
therefore,  of  a  subjective  immortality  without  an  objec- 
tive correlate  is  antagonistic  to  a  positive  conception  of  the 
universe  and  of  existence.  The  positive  conception  of 
God,  which  we  have  just  stated,  necessitates  belief  in 
immortality  as  an  objective  as  well  as  a  subjective  fact. 
In  what  precise  form  this  personal  immortality  is  realized, 
will  not  concern  positive  Christianity.  t  No  scientific 
demonstration  of  the  existence  of  the  soul  after  the  death 
of  the  body  is  necessary  for  the  purpose  of  positive  Chris- 
tianity, and  it  will  refuse  to  waste  time  in  quest  of  proof 
of  that  which,  if  proved,  would  add  nothing  of  value  to 
the  Christian  life.  Here  again,  then,  positive  Chris- 
tianity is  in  harmony  with  the  scientific  spirit. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  is  nothing  in  positive  science 
which  forbids  a  reasonable  faith  in  personal  immortality. 
Indeed,  the  evidence  of  positive  science,  so  far  as  it  has 
been  able  to  get  ascertained  facts,  seems  to  point  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  principle  of  continuity  reigns  in  the 
spiritual  as  well  as  in  the  physical  realm;  but  no  dog- 
matic conclusion  has  been  reached  by  science,  and  this  is, 
perhaps,  well  in  the  present  stage  of  human  development. 
The  overemphasis  upon  personal  immortality  has  fre- 
quently led  to  very  unfortunate  results  in  both  religion  and 
ethics.  T  Positive  Christianity  here  as  elsewhere  will  not 
attempt  to  set  up  dogmas  upon  uncertain;  foundations.  In 
this  matter,  it  will  be  content  to  affirm  that  the  facts  of 
science  are  not  such  as  in  any  way  to  undermine  a  reason- 
able faith.  It  will  avoid  such  attempts  as  have  often 


POSITIVE  CHRISTIANITY  143 

been  made  by  the  church  to  depict  the  exact  form  in  which 
personal  immortality  will  be  realized — attempts  which  all 
'sane  mi  mis  now  see  must  be  regarded  as  horrible  or  ludi-  • 
crous  caricatures  of  what  a  rational  religious  faith  should 
be.  Rather  positive  Christianity  will,  as  we  have  already 
said,  return  in  this  matter  to  the  simple,  trustful,  and 
affirmative  attitude  of  Jesus,  which  is  a  sufficient  founda- 
tion for  the  Christian  life. 

The  attitude  of  positive  Christianity  towards  sin  and 
salvation  will  be  unequivocal.  The  theological  conception 
of  sin  is  that  it  is  rebellion  against  God.  To  this  state- 
ment there  can  be  no  objection,  if  we  remember  that  the 
service  of  God  must  consist  in  the  service  of  humanity; 
therefore,  rebellion  against  God  is  disloyalty  to  humanity. 
In  simplest  terms,  sin  is  essentially  selfishness;  it  is  dis- 
loyalty to  the  claims  of  humanity,  whether  that  humanity 
be  our  fellow  human  beings  around  us  or  those  in  distant 
lands  or  future  ages.  The  conception  of  sin  in  positive 
Christianity,  in  other  words,  will  be  social  and  humani- 
tarian. Sin  will  be  the  failure  to  recognize  in  all  of  one's 
fellow  beings  ends  rather  than  mere  means,  or  to  act,  as 
Kant  said,  so  that  the  principle  upon  which  one  acts  may 
be  made  into  a  universal  law.  But  this  is  simply  the 
Christianity  of  the  Gospels.  Tin  this  case  again  positive 
Christianity  will  mean  a  return  to  the  simple  teachings 
of  Jesus.  *}  The  elaborate  definitions  of  sin  formulated  by 
the  creeds  of  the  church  will  be  thrown  into  the  discard ; 
but  sin  will  not  become,  on  that  account,  a  less  direfully 
significant  fact  in  the  religious  life.  Because  sin  is  dis- 
loyalty to  humanity,  makes  it  no  less  rebellion  against  God 
and  robs  it  of  none  of  its  terror  or  degradation  to  the 
true  Christian  mind. 

The  true  Christian  conception  of  salvation  is  that  it  is 

"4'  <.       .  <.  •---'  - 


144     THE  KECONSTKUCTIOlSr  OF  KELIGION 

salvation  from  sin.  This  is  the  conception  of  the  Gos- 
pels, but  in  the  theological  ages  of  the  Christian  church, 
salvation  was  often  represented  to  mean,  essentially, 
escape  from  punishment  and  assurance  of  bliss  in  a  life 
beyond  the  grave.  Thus,  the  whole  conception  of  salva- 
tion was  degraded  to  a  refined  sort  of  selfishness  and  other- 
worldliness.  Positive  Christianity  will  furnish  a  social 
conception  of  salvation  in  contrast  to  the  medieval  theo- 
logical notions  which  have  prevailed  down  to  the  present. 
It  will  not  deny  that  human  souls  may  be  lost  and  in 
torment  on  account  of  sin;  for  that  would  be  to  deny  an 
obvious  fact  of  moral  and  religious  experience.  But  it 
will  emphasize  that  salvation  means,  not  only  deliverance 
from  sin,  but  entrance  into  the  joy  of  a  life  of  love,  of 
service,  and  of  right  relations  with  one's  fellow  men,  and 
of  a  consequent  right  attitude  toward  God£lt  will  point  out 
that  for  the  individual,  salvation  consists,  essentially,  in 
identifying  himself  with  the  highest  aspirations  and  wel- 
j  fare  of  his  race.  Actively,  salvation  will  reveal  itself  by 
participation  in  all  those  movements  and  activities  which 
are  designed  to  redeem  humanity.  For  groups  of  indi- 
viduals, salvation  will  consist  in  accepting  the  spirit  of 
Jesus,  the  spirit  of  seeking  to  serve  God  through  the 
service  of  humanity.  £Such  groups  as  the  church  and  the 
family,  and,  possibly,  also  the  state  when  it  shall  become 
Christian,  are  the  necessary  and  natural  media  by  which 
individuals  are  saved  ;j^nd  hence  positive  Christianity  will 
preach  a  salvation  for  groups  as  well  as  for  individuals. 
For  ultimately  it  seeks  a  redeemed  world  not  less  than 
redeemed  individuals. 

But  it  may  be  said  that  the  crucial  question  has  not 
yet  been  answered.  What  is  the  attitude  of  positive  Chris- 
tianity toward  Jesus  ?  Does  it  accept  Ids  claims,  and  is  it 


"^V  ". 

Q.k-  .  i    /  ?  •'  t 


POSITIVE  CHRISTIANITY  145 

in  accord  with  the  tradition  of  the  Christian  church  ?   The 
answer,  again,  is  unequivocal.  {"Positive  Christianity  will 
cept  Jesus  for  what  he  claimed  to  be  himself J  especially 
as  his  words  are  reported  in  the  first  three  Gospels;  but 
it  will  not  accept  what  theologians  have  claimed  him  to 
be.     Theological  disputation,  it  is  almost  notorious,  has 
obscured  the  simple  and  sublime  figure  of  the  Gospels.1 
Scarcely  any  two  theologians  have  agreed  in  regard  to 
eir  claims  as  to  Jesus,  and  certainly  no  two  Christian 
sects.     It  is  time  surely  that  the  Christian  church  should 
mphasize  what  Jesus  said  of  himself,  and  not  what  men 
ave  said  of  him.     The  historical  credibility  of  the  main 
'eatures    of   the    Gospel   story    seem   beyond    reasonable 
.oubt.2  (^Indeed,  the  principles  of  sociology  and  anthro- 
ology  are  such  that  even  though  we  had  no  supporting 
ocuments  from  the  early  Christian  centuries,  the  credi- 
ility  of  the  Gospel  story  could  scarcely  be  doubted  in  the 
ight  of  subsequent  historical  social  developments — a  point 
hich  some  critics  have  often  overlooked.     Social  move- 
ents  do  not  originate  without  social  leaders,  and  great 
istorical    movements    which    have    profoundly    affected 
ivilization  require  personalities  which  bring  to  a  focus, 
jas  it  were,  certain  social  tendencies,  thus  giving  a  new 
Impetus  and  direction  to  social  development. 

The  principles  of  psychology  also  aid  in  giving  cer- 
kainty  to  the  essential  truthfulness  and  historicity  of  the 
figure  of  Jesus.  This  has  impressed  practically  all  stu- 
dents who  have  brought  an  open  mind  to  the  question. 
|If  such  sociological,  psychological,  and  anthropological 

1  For  example,  see  Schweitzer's  review  of  the  work  of  the  German 
theologians  from  Reimarus  to  Wrede  in  his  The  Quest  of  the  His- 
torical Jesus.  The  results,  as  Schweitzer  himself  acknowledges,  are 
mainly  negative. 

1  Such  credibility  would  surely  never  have  been  questioned  had  not 
Ithe  teaching  of  Jesus  been  involved  in  partisan  disputation. 


146     THE  EECON^TKUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

principles  be  rejected,  we  are  left  without  any  positive 
science  of  human  history  and  plunged  into  the  absurdities 
of  absolute  historical  skepticism.1 

We  may,  therefore,  accept  the  essential  truth,  even  upon 
a  purely  scientific  basis,  of  the  account  of  Jesus'  teach- 
ings and  life  contained  in  the  Gospels.  ^Reasonable  faith 
built  upon  these  scientific  principles  will,  of  course,  go 
much  further  and  say  that  the  burden  of  proof  obviously 
rests  upon  those  who  would  reject  the  account  of  Jesus' 
teachings  and  life  contained  in  the  Gospels. 

What,  then,  did  Jesus  say  concerning  himself?  What 
were  the  claims  which  he  himself  made  upon  his  fol- 
lowers? That  they  were  no  inconsiderable  claims  the 
Gospel  record,  as  well  as  the  history  of  the  Christian 
church,  bears  witness.  Jesus  was  conscious  in  the  highest 
degree  of  his  world  mission.  He  believed  himself  sent 
by  God,  not  only  to  redeem  his  people,  but  all  the  nations 
of  the  earth.  He  proclaimed  himself  the  Messiah  fore- 
told by  the  Prophets,2  sent  to  redeem  Israel  and  establish 
God's  kingdom  upon  earth.  He  spoke  of  himself,  how- 
ever, not  so  much  as  representing  his  own  people  as  man- 
kind in  general,  namely  as  "the  Son  of  Man" ; 3  only 

1  The  extreme  to  which  such  skepticism  may  go  is  also  seen  in  the 
case  of  Buddha,  whose  historic  existence  has  been  doubted  by  one 
school  of  writers.  Compare  Glover,  The  Jesus  of  History,  pp.  5-9. 

a  Some  careful  New  Testament  scholars  think  that  Jesus  never 
proclaimed  himself  as  the  Messiah.  See  Case,  The  Millennial  Hope, 
p.  114  f. 

•  This  term  has  caused  endless  controversy  among  the  critics.  See 
articles  in  Encyclopedia  Biblica  (Vol.  IV)  and  in  Hastings  Diction- 
ary of  the  Bible.  While  the  term  in  Jewish  apocalyptic  writings  was 
used  as  one  of  the  titles  of  the  Messiah,  it  is  improbable  that  Jesus 
used  it  in  this  sense.  As  Bishop  Westcott  said :  "It  is  inconceivable 
that  the  Lord  should  have  adopted  a  title  which  was  popularly  hold 
to  be  synonymous  with  that  of  the  Messiah  while  he  carefully  avoided 
the  title  of  Messiah  itself."  In  other  words,  it  is  improbable  that 
Jesus  used  the  term  generally  in  the  apocalyptic  sense,  but  rather 
in  the  simpler  sense  the  term  had  in  the  Aramaic  which  Jesus  spoke, 


POSITIVE  CHKISTIANITY  147 

twice  in  the  records  of  his  ministry  do  "we  find  him  speak- 
ing of  himself  as  representing  God,  namely  as  "the  Son 
of  God."  Nevertheless,  he  does  not  hesitate  to  say,  on 
several  occasions,  many  things  which  indicate  clearly  his 
sense  of  his  mission  as  a  redeemer  of  mankind.  "I  am 
the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life,"  he  says.  Again,  "No 
man  cometh  to  the  Father  except  through  me."  * 

Now,  we  cannot  possibly  dismiss  these  hold  claims 
which  Jesus  made  for  himself  even  though  they  are 
similar  to  the  claims  which  have  been  made  by  the 

jfounders  of  other  religions.  The  question  still  remains, 
was  Jesus  a  religious  fanatic  ?  Was  he  insane,  or  was  he 
profoundly  sane?  It  may  be  pointed  out,  in  the  first 
place,  that  all  of  the  greatest  leaders  of  mankind,  not 
only  in  religion,  but  in  art,  in  science,  and  in  state- 
craft have  usually  been  highly  conscious  of  what  they  have 
accomplished  and  of  their  gifts.  The  so-called  extrava- 
gant claims  of  Jesus  could  be  paralleled  many  times,  for 
example,  by  the  great  claims  put  forth  by  men  of  science 
for  their  discoveries.  It  is  no  more  to  be  wondered  at  that 

r  Jesus  was  highly  conscious  of  the  supreme  worth  ^of  his 
discoveries  in  the  moral  and  religious  realm  than  that  a 
Kepler  or  a  Galileo  was  conscious  of  the  worth  of  their 
discoveries.  *!  Again,  all  of  the  great  active  leaders  of  man- 

namely,  "the  man,"  or  "the  representative  of  man."  See  especially 
article  by  Professor  Schmidt  above  referred  to  in  the  Encyclopedia 
Biblica. 

1  These  strongest  statements  attributed  to  Jesus  are  from  the  fourth 
Gospel,  which  is  generally  recognized  by  scholars  in  all  branches  of 
the  church  to  be  of  uncertain  authorship.  They  are,  however,  in  line 
with  some  other  sayings  of  Jesus,  and  in  substantial  harmony  with 
the  spirit  of  the  first  three  Gospels.  That  the  ideas  which  they 
express  were  a  part  of  the  early  Christian  tradition  seems,  therefore, 
probable.  They  are  purposely  cited  here  as  examples  of  the  extreme 
Christian  tradition.  Even  so,  if  taken  in  a  practical  rather  than  in  a 
theological  sense,  they  are  not  irrational,  but  accord  with,  Christian 
experience. 

.-.    &lv^    ^^^/V    c     --.--          ••* 


•        •"  '<••  .-''      '•'•  '.  ,     &  -~-  ,,7  •  - 


148     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

kind  have  been  more  or  less  conscious  of  the  convergence 
of  social  and  historical  forces  in  their  own  personality 
and  in  their  life  work.  It  is  not  surprising,  then,  that 
Jesus  showed  this  consciousness  to  the  highest  degree.  He 
lived  at  a  period  when  the  contending  forces  of  the  social 
and  religious  life  of  the  Jews,  and,  for  that  matter,  of  the 
Greco-Roman  world,  were  coming  to  a  head.  His  soul 
rose  superior  to  the  petty,  reactionary,  particularistic 
tendencies  of  his  time  in  religion  and  ethics,  and  he  felt 
himself  commissioned  to  realize  the  nobler  dreams  and 
aspirations  of  his  people,  especially,  those  of  the  later 
prophets.  His  was  the  pure  and  sensitive  soul  in  which 
the  noblest  traditions  of  Jewish  religion  and  ethics  be- 
came intensified  and  still  further  idealized.  Passing 
through  his  transcendent  personality  the  best  in  Jewish 
traditions  underwent  a  new  synthesis,  creating  a  new  re- 
ligious and  ethical  attitude,  fitted,  as  we  have  already  said, 
to  mediate  the  transition  from  the  standards  of  barbarism 
to  those  of  higher  civilization.  (jThus,  Jesus  became  tho 
spiritual  leader  and  savior  of  mankind,  the  initiator  of  a 
new  age  which  would  in  time  establish  the  reign  of  God 
among  men  even  as  it  was  already  established  in  the  rest 
of  the  universe.'"] 

Taking  into  account  Jesus'  position  in  time  and  his 
work,  his  consciousness  of  his  mission  and  of  the  truth 
of  his  teachings,  his  claims  for  himself  were  not  extrava- 
gant.1 Indeed,  no  one  who  accepts  his  leadership  and  his 

1  Says  Professor  Sirakhovitch:  "There  is  no  question  in  my  mind 
that  Christ's  deep  conviction  that  his  is  the  Way  and  the  Truth  was 
based  on  knowledge,  intellectual  knowledge,  scientific  knowledge,  if 
you  please.  Before  he  felt  that  he  was  the  Redeemer,  he  knew  himself 
to  be  the  great  Discoverer.  ...  To  me,  personally,  it  seems  childish 
not  to  see  in  Christ's  teachings  an  overwhelming  intellectual  system. 
The  towering  parts  that  are  its  components  are  parts  of  the  same 
system,  not  independent  units.  The  truth  of  the  insight,  the  cohesion 
of  the  system  were  self-evident  to  Christ;  so  much  BO  that  he  knew 


POSITIVE  CHRISTIANITY  149 

teachings  can  do  anything  but  acknowledge  that  in  a  pro- 
found sense  he  is  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life,  and  that 
no  man  can  come  to  the  Father  except  through  his  spirit, 
through  belief  in  him  and  the  acceptance  of  his  leadership 
and  so  of  his  saviorship.  Jesus'  life  and  teaching  was 
characterized,  then,  by  the  highest  sanity,  not  by  the  sanity 
of  a  low  prudence  or  of  a  false  humility,  but  by  the  sanity 
of  an  exalted  mood,  such  as  has  characterized  all  of  the 
greater  leaders  of  mankind.  Positive  Christianity  will 
recognize  fully  these  facts,  and  in  accepting  the  leader- 
ship of  Jesus  will  take  him  at  his  own  valuation.  It  will 
recognize  that  in  these  statements  and  claims  of  Jesus 
there  is  the  best  evidence  of  his  fitness  for  spiritual 
leadership. 

For  men  must  have  leaders  in  order  to  accomplish  any- 
thing great  in  any  line;  and  this  is  particularly  true  of 
the  social  world,  of  ethical  and  religious  matters  where 
great  vision  and  deep  enthusiasm  are  needed  to  lead  ef- 
fectively. No  human  cause  can  be  successful  until  it 
crystallizes,  so  to  speak,  about  one  or  more  personalities. 
Not  until  the  cause,  the  movement  is  embodied  in  one  or 
more  masterful  personalities  who  lead  the  mass  is  there 
any  chance  of  the  success  of  the  cause.  This  is  as  true  of 
bad  causes  as  it  is  of  good  ones.  Men  are  not  sufficiently 
motivated  by  abstract  ideas ;  it  is  rather  loyalty  to  a  con- 
crete personality,  or  rather  to  a  series  of  such  person- 
alities, which  sways  them.  It  is  thus  that  men  are  saved ; 

that  they  had  an  absolute  quality;  that  is,  coming  from  God." 
Toward  the  Understanding  of  Jesus,  pp.  57  and  71.  Perhaps  no 
scientific  student  of  society  has  treated  Jesus's  consciousness  of  his 
mission  with  such  lucidity  and  penetration  as  Professor  Simkhovitch. 
The  book  from  which  we  have  just  quoted  has  rightly  been  said  to 
give  "a  more  realistic  grasp  of  the  entire  situation  and  a  more 
intimate  understanding  of  the  aims  and  methods  of  Jesus  than  a 
•entury  of  minute  literary  criticism  of  New  Testament  documentg  has 
been  able  to  discoyer." 


150     THE  RECONSTKUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

and  it  is  in  this  sense  that  the  rational  Christian  finds  in 
Jesus  his  personal  savior. 

The  experience  of  Christians  through  the  centuries,  and 
even  of  many  outside  of  the  church,  testifies  to  the  essen- 
tial truth  of  the  claims  which  Jesus  himself  put  forth. 
In  his  life  and  teachings  men  have  found  not  simply  their 
best  comprehension  of  the  divine  and  of  personal  redemp- 
tion from  low  and  mean  social  tendencies,  hut  an  unfail- 
ing source  of  aspiration  and  enthusiasm  for  a  better  social 
order.  "Each  new  crusade  in  the  long  strife  for  human 
betterment,"  Professor  Eitch  truly  says,  "looks  in  sublime 
confidence  to  him  as  its  forerunner  and  defense. "  None 
can  deny  accordingly  that  Jesus  as  an  ideal  figure  has,  as 
a  matter  of  fact,  established  his  leadership  of  all  who 
look  for  a  human  society  based  upon  love.1  There  is  no 
hope  of  the  realization  of  a  social  life  dominated  by  love 
without  Jesus,  for  there  is  no  one  to  whom  the  world 
would  turn  for  such  a  vision  if  his  leadership  were  de- 
nied.55' And  in  making  himself  the  moral  and  social  leader 
of  mankind  he  has  surely  become  the  redeemer  and  savior 
of  his  fellowmen.  }  These  facts  must  be  acknowledged  by 
all  who  would  pass  judgment  upon  the  claims  of  Jesus; 

1  It  is,  of  course,  true  that  the  central  figure  of  the  Christian 
movement  is  not  the  historical  Jesus  alone,  but  a  growing  symbol,  to 
which  are  attached,  as  they  develop,  our  highest  spiritual  aspirations. 
The  same  tiling  is  true  of  any  other  great  historical  leader,  as,  e.  g., 
Lincoln.  To  this  extent,  but  to  this  only,  can  we  agree  with 
those  who  would  minimize  the  importance  of  the  historical  Jesus. 
We  may  perhaps  nearly  agree  with  Schweitzer,  despite  his  eschato- 
logical  views,  when  he  says  (op.  cit.  p.  401):  "Not  the  historical 
Jesus,  but  the  spirit  which  goes  forth  from  Him"  is  the  thing  of 
supreme  importance  in  religion. 

1  Surely  not  liuddha  and  Buddhism,  for  Buddhism  is  essentially  a 
pnhenie  of  individual  salvation  and  presents  no  ideal  society  as  its 
goal  Self-mastery,  not  service,  is  its  ideal — individual  salvation,  and 
not  a  redeemed  world.  Whatever  its  merits  on  the  individual  side, 
its  inculcation  of  passivity,  quietism  and  asceticism  throw  it  out  of 
harmony,  not  only  with  modern  civilization,  but  also  with  social 
needs  and  hence  with  social  science.  See  p.  68. 


POSITIVE  CHKISTIANITY  151 

and  they  arc  the  chief  scientific  ground  for  recognizing 
the  validity  of  his  claim  to  be  in  a  spiritual  sense  the 
savior  of  mankind.  And  until  mankind  recognizes  the 
validity  of  this  claim  and  acknowledges  him  as  savior  and 
leader,  it  will  remain  barbarous  and  lost  in  sin.1 

Positive  Christianity,  accordingly,  instead  of  groping 
in  the  dark  to  find  some  great,  simple  soul  who  will  lead 
the  world  out  of  its  present  chaos,  will  point  to  Jesus 
without  any  spirit  of  religious  mysticism  as  the  ample 
and  sufficient  leader  of  mankind.  It  awaits  and  expects 
no  other  leader.  It  knows  that  the~FnowTecIge  as  well 
as  tho  heart  of  mankind  will  testify  to  the  adequacy 
of  his  leadership  in  ethical  and  religious  matters.  It 
knows  that  a  benighted  and  barbarous  world  has  yet 
to  accept  his  social  saviorship.  It  knows  that  a  world 
fully  awake  to  true  social  and  religious  values  will 
say,  as  a  modern  rationalist  outside  of  the  church  has 
said :  " Jesus  Christ,  come  back !  The  tones  of  your  voice 
have  not  yet  died  away.  In  spite  of  false  creeds  and 
wizard  priests,  through  craft  and  rant,  the  heart  of  our 
age  still  turns  to  you.  Touch  the  sorcery  of  our  time  and 
wake  us  from  the  vile  enchantment  of  fear  and  foolish 
hate.  Come !  Deliver  us  from  the  doom  of  dead  things. 
Bring  life  from  the  grave  where  faith  lies  bound.  Jesus 

iKvcn  a  hostile,  though  fair,  critic  of  Christianity  (Sellars:  The 
Xext  Step  in  Religion,  p.  96)  is  compelled  to  acknowledge:  "In  the 
figure  of  Jesus,  ethical  and  aesthetic  idealization  guided  by  religious 
emotion  has  created  a  personality  of  a  peculiarly  appealing  type,  well 
fitted  to  remain  as  an  ideal  to  foster  and  strengthen  the  noblest 
tendencies."  Compare  also  the  appreciative  statement  of  Rabbi  H.  G. 
Enelow,  which  may  be  taken  as  typical  of  the  liberal  Jewish  attitude: 
"Among  the  great  and  tho  good  that  the  human  race  has  produced, 
none  has  even  approached  Jesus  in  universality  of  appeal  and 
sway.  ...  He  has  become  the  most  fascinating  figure  in  history." 
(A  Jewish  View  of  Jesus,  p.  181.) 


152     THE  KECONSTBUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

Christ,  come  back!     Bring  dreams  and  let  dreams  come 
true!     Bring  love  that  knits  all  hearts  into  one." 

And  yet,  positive  Christianity  will  emphasize,  not  so 
much  an  emotional  attachment  to  Jesus7  person,  impor- 
tant as  that  may  be,  as  a  rational  understanding  and  ac- 
ceptance of  Jesus'  teachings.  Of  emotional  Christianity 
the  world  has  had  enough  and  has  proved  its  utter  in- 
adequacy, except  when  it  is  accompanied  by  a  thorough 
comprehension  and  radical  acceptance  of  the  teachings  of 
Christianity's  leader.  It  is  probably  safe  to  say  that  not 
one  out  of  four  of  those  whom  the  church  has  persuaded 
emotionally  to  accept  Jesus  as  their  savior  can  give  any 
rational  account  of  Jesus'  teachings.1  This,  of  course, 
has  been  one  of  the  main  reasons  for  the  failure  of  Chris- 
tianity to  become  socially  effective.  A  thorough  under- 
standing of  the  practical  social  meaning  of  the  teachings 
of  the  Master  will  not  detract  from  the  reverence  and  love 
of  his  person,  and  it  will  add  greatly  to  the  effectiveness 
of  Christian  ideals  in  practical  life. 

These  statements  bring  us,  naturally,  to  a  consideration 
of  the  importance  for  positive  Christianity  of  the  study 
of  the  Bible  and,  especially,  of  Jesus'  teachings.  'No  one 
would  expect  to  complete  an  education  along  artistic  lines, 
or  to  become  an  artist,  without  the  study  of  the  work  of 
great  masters.  No  one  would  expect  to  become  a  worth 
while  scientific  worker  or  thinker  in  any  line  without 
study  of  the  great  scientific  masterpieces  in  that  line.  So, 
it  is  idle  to  think  that  any  one  can  become  moral  and  re- 

1  It  is,  of  course,  the  spirit  of  Jesus'  teachings,  rather  than 
letter  which  Christians  need  to  understand.  Says  Professor  Coe 
(A  Social  Theory  of  Religious  Education,  p.  315)  :  "The  most  daring 
and  most  unflinching  social  teaching  will  never  cease  to  look  back  to 
Jesus.  But  if  it  sees  Jesus,  it  will  look  with  him  to  the  future.  It 
will  breathe  his  spirit,  but  it  will  not  stop  with  his  words."  See  also 
Chapter  XI  of  this  book. 


POSITIVE  CHRISTIANITY  153 

ligions  in  a  rational  way  without  the  study  of  the  great 
masterpieces  in  ethics  and  religion.  Now,  by  the  common 
consent  of  all  the  great  religious  thinkers  of  our  civiliza- 
tion the  supreme  religious  masterpieces  of  our  cultural 
tradition  are  embodied  in  that  unique  collection  of  litera- 
ture which  we  term  the  Bible.  The  ethical  and  religious 
value  of  the  Bible,  especially  of  the  Gospels,  for  the  estab- 
lishment of  Christian  civilization  cannot  be  doubted. 
|  t)ther  things  being  equal,  a  people  will  be  Christian  di- 
rectly in  proportion  to  the  attention  which  they  pay  to 
the  teachings  of  Jesus  as  found  in  the  Bible.^)  One  of  the 
best  evidences  of  the  decay  of  the  hold  of  Christian  ideals 
upon  our  civilization  is  the  small  attention  given  to  the 
Bible  at  the  present  time.  It  is  idle  to  suppose  that  these 
ideals  can  become  socially  prevalent  mental  patterns  with- 
out continued  attention  and  study,  especially  on  the  part 
of  the  young.  /  However  much  our  religious  life  must  be 
based  upon  the  actual  facts  of  experience,  it  still  remains 
true  that/Christian  principles  and  ideals  can  best  be  under- 
stood by  studying  them  in  the  original  sources.)  While 
these  sources  should  not  be  regarded  with  superstition,  but 
should  be  subject  to  the  same  standards  of  criticism 
which  we  would  apply  to  any  other  original  sources,  yet 
it  must  be  recognized  that  we  find  in  the  Bible  the  original 
"source  material"  for  the  rise,  development,  and  meaning 
of  the  Christian  movement.  It  is  not  an  accident,  there- 
fore, that  Christians  have  discovered  in  this  great  collec- 
tion of  literature  the  chief  inspiration  for  their  own  ideals 
and  practical  living.  Positive  Christianity,  freeing  the 
Bible  from  superstition  and  misunderstanding,  will  give 
it  its  proper  place  in  the  religious  life  as  the  great  source- 
book  of  religious  idealism.  The  uncritical  use  of  the 
Bible  like  the  uncritical  use  of  any  other  classic,  however, 


154     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

will  be  condemned  as  not  in  accord  with  the  scientific 
spirit.1  Its  use  will  he  to  reveal  the  origin,  development, 
and  nature  of  the  Christian  ideal. 

The  attitude  of  positive  Christianity  toward  prayer  will 
also  he  unequivocal.  All  religions,  except  the  very  low- 
est, are  characterized  by  the  use  of  prayer,  or  by  what 
,  amounts  to  the  same  thing,  introspective  meditation.  It 
is  indeed  in  this  way  that  the  religious  attitude  of  mind 
functions  as  a  sort  of  moral  equilibrator.  Without  it  the 
full  energies  of  the  moral  and  religious  life  are  scarcely 

1  Some  statement  of  the  attitude  of  the  author  toward  the  Biblical 
criticism  of  the  nineteenth  century  may  be  helpful  in  order  to  avoid 
misunderstanding.  In  general,  critical  scholarship  is  to  be  welcomed 
along  every  line  of  human  interest  for  reasons  which  were  briefly 
noted  at  the  very  beginning  of  this  book.  But  there  are  many  reasons 
why  the  critical  movement  in  religion  and  theology  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  especially  as  developed  in  Germany,  cannot  be  considered  the 
acme  of  scholarship.  In  the  first  place,  criticism  to  be  truly  pro- 
ductive must  be  constructive.  It  should  not  be  mere  destructive 
skepticism.  Institutions  as  well  as  individuals  have  a  right  to 
demand  that  criticism  be  constructive.  In  the  second  place,  the 
importance  of  documentary  criticism  may  be  easily  exaggerated,  and 
such  criticism  itself  become  a  sort  of  scholasticism^*  While  the  Bible 
is  infinitely  precious  for  the  Christian  movement,  yet  the  Christian 
movement  exists  independent  of  the  Bible  and  would  probably  con- 
tinue to  exist  were  there  no  Bible.^This  is  not  always  appreciated  by 
some  schools  of  critics  and  hence  fney  have  had  often  an  exaggerated 
idea  of  the  importance  of  their  work.  It  is  not  too  nuich  to  say  that 
a  great  deal  of  it  has  been  irrelevant  to  the  great  issues  of  religion. 
The  entire  documents  of  Christianity,  Mohammedanism,  and  Buddhism 
might  conceivably  be  lost;  yet  the  problem  of  the  Christian  move- 
ment, the  Mohammedan  movement,  the  Buddhist  movement,  would 
remain  essentially  the  same  for  the  world.  Crowing  out  of  the 
scholasticism  of  the  critics  there  has  been,  in  the  third  place,  often 
a  failure  among  them  to  appreciate  the  bearing  of  nearly  related 
sciences  upon  their  work.  They  have  failed,  in  other  words,  in 
synthetic  scholarship  in  many  cases.  The  astounding  archaeological, 
anthropological,  sociological,  and  psychological  errors  of  some  of  them 
must  of  course  be  attributed  in  part  to  the  time  in  which  they  wrote, 
but  also  in  part  to  lark  of  synthetic  scholarship.  All  of  which  shows 
that  the  ideas  of  the  critics  must  not  be  taken  for  scientific  truth, 
and  that  much  of  their  work  needs  to  be  done  over  in  a  different 
spirit,  more  constructive,  nmn-  synthetic,  moro  scientific.  British 
and  American  scholars  are  now  doing  this. 


POSITIVE  CHRISTIANITY  155 

capable  of  control  and  direction.1  It  is  through  prayer 
in  every  religion  that  the  worshipper  and  the  deity  come 
into  communion.  It  establishes  a  social  and  personal  re- 
lationship between  them,  and  the  social  efficacy  of  religion 
is  secured  through  this  mental  comradeship  of  the  human 
and  the  divine.  God  becomes  the  Great  Companion  only 
to  the  extent  tliat  conversation  with  him  is  maintained. 
Inasmuch  as  prayer  means  the  social  energizing  of  the 
personality  through  a  sense  of  communion  with  the  divine, 
it  is  something  which  increases  with  the  higher  evolution 
of  religion  rather  than  decreases.2  In  Christianity  the 
ideal  is  that  the  whole  life  shall  become  a  prayer,  in  the 
sense  that  the  inner  personal  life  shall  ever  be  kept  in 
constant  communion  with  the  divine.  At  the  same  time 
it  is  evident  that  when  prayer  becomes  thus  an  attitude 
pervading  all  practical  living  on  a  high  religious  plane,  it 
must  lose  the  magical  character  which  it  once  had,  not 
only  in  the  religions  antecedent  to  Christianity,  but  also 
often  in  theological  Christianity  itself.  It  must  become 
a  rational  religious  practice. 

r~~  What  then  must  be  the  conception  of  prayer  in  rational 
religion?  Surely  not  that  the  order  of  the  universe  is 
changed  by  it.  This  violates  the  fundamental  principle 
which  we  laid  down  in  the  beginning,  that  religion  and 
religious  practices  are  for  the  sake  of  adaptation.  Prayer 
is  simply  one  method  by  which  the  religious  attitude  se- 
cures the  adaptation  of  the  individual  to  life  and  its  en- 
vironing forces.  It  secures  this  adaptation  not  through 
changing  the  order  of  the  universe,  but  through  changing 

1  For  a  brief  psychological  statement  of  the  effect  of  prayer,  see 
Hall :  Morale,  p.  350 ;  for  a  fuller  psychological  discussion,  see  Jamea : 
Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  pp.  463,  477  and  528.  James  calls 
prayer  "the  very  soul  and  essence  of  religion."  See  also  Coe:  The 
Psychology  of  Religion,  Chapter  XVII. 

*  Prayer  in  the  strict  sense  is  relatively  rare  in  the  lower  religions. 


156     THE  EECONSTEUOTION  OF  KELIGION 

the  attitudes  of  men  to  their  ideals,  to  one  another,  and 
to  the  great  forces  of  life  and  the  universe.  But  this 
change  in  the  human  attitude  is  the  thing  that  is  su- 
premely necessary  to  bring  about  the  benefits  which  re- 
ligion seeks.  There  is,  therefore,  no  necessary  element  of 
self-delusion  in  prayer.  On  the  contrary,  if  the  assump- 
tion of  sane  religion  must  be  what  we  have  said,  that 
"only  man  is  vile,"  then  only  man  needs  to  be  changed, 
not  God  or  the  order  of  the  universe.1^  Salvation,  both 
personal  and  social,  can  come  to  man  only  through  the 
change  in  his  inner  life ;  and  it  is  grayer  which  is  the 
effective  agency  of  bringing  about  these  changes  and  in 
controlling  them  so  that  ideals  shall  be  realized.  The 
experience  of  religious  persons  testifies  universally  to  the 
efficacy  of  prayer  and  no  positive  religion  based  upon  the 
facts  of  life  will  deny  this.  On  the  contrary,  it  will  give 
not  only  a  more  rational  place  to  prayer  in  the  religious 
life,  but  a  larger  one  than  mere  superstition  can  pos- 
sibly do. 

We  must  always  remember  that  motivation,  energizing 
of  the  will,  is  in  one  sense  the  supreme  function  of  re- 
ligion, and  that  the  practice  of  prayer,  like  the  beliefs  in 
Gid,  immortality,  and  salvation,  plays  here  a  great  part. 
The  problem  is  how  to  make  all  these  work  in  the  right 
direction.  It  must  be  admitted  that  many  of  the  prayers 
of  religious  people  are  neither  rational  nor  ethical,  and 
this  a  positive  social  Christianity  must  correct.  In  part, 
no  doubt,  prayer  is  often  instinctive,  a  mere  cry  for  help 
to  the  superhuman  forces  of  the  universe.  Even  when  it 
has  become  partly  rational  it  still  frequently  remains 
grossly  unethical,  as  in  the  prayers  not  only  of  children 

1  The  moral  order  being  necessarily  cooperative,  it  is,  of  course,  as 
right  to  conceive  that  God  needs  man's  help  as  that  man  needs  God's 
help.  Man  and  God  are  co-partners  in  a  common  task.  But  the 
imperfections  in  this  cooperation  are  on  man's  side,  not  on  God's. 


POSITIVE  CIIEISTIANITY  157 

and  criminals,  but  also  sometimes  of  respectable  church 
members.  There  is  too  much  prayer  which  is  pagan  and 
selfish.  Obviously  prayer  can  be  tolerated  in  a  social  re- 
ligion only  as  it  is  directed  toward  spiritual  ends  and 
accords  with  the  higher  social  values. 

This  does  not  mean,  however,  that  there  should  be  any 
sort  of  social  censorship  upon  prayer  or  the  forms  of 
worship.  The  right  of  the  individual  to  worship  as  seems 
bestToTiim  and  to  appeal  to  God  over  the  decisions  of  the 
mass  of  his  fellowmen  is  salutary.  This  freedom,  which 
the  individual  may  claim,  of  direct  communion  with,  and 
appeal  to,  the  deity  is  one  of  the  most  precious  achieve- 
ments of  the  higher  ethical  religions.  But  in  reality  the 
recognition  of  this  right  of  free  access  of  every  individual 
to  God  and  of  freedom  of  worship  is  in  accord  with  the 
highest  social  values ;  for  it  makes  the  individual  religious 
attitude  directly  creative,  not  only  of  personal  character, 
but  also  of  social  order.  It  is  therefore  really  in  accord 
with  the  general  principle  which  we  have  laid  down,  that 
rational  religion  must  demand  that  prayer  and  religious 
practices  in  general  be  directed  to  spiritual  and  social 
ends ;  for  freedom  in  these  matters,  experience  has  shown, 
best  conduces  to  higher  spiritual  and  social  development. 

Positive  Christianity  will  be  tolerant,  not  only  in  these 
matters,  but  in  all  matters  of  religious  belief  and  prac- 
tice ;  for  with  science  it  will  share  the  supreme  faith  that 
all  that  truth  needs  to  establish  itself  is  a  fair  field  and 
no  favors.  The  world  understands  the  absurdity  of  trying 
to  establish  scientific  truth  by  any  degree  of  coercion. 
It  should  see  the  equal  absurdity  of  trying  to  secure  the 
acceptance  of  religious  and  moral  truth  by  any  coercion. 
The  appeal  of  a  positive  religion,  like  that  of  science,  will 
be  to  the  facts  of  life  and  to  intelligence.  Hence  a  posi- 


158     THE  RECONSTEUOTION  OF  KELIGION 

tive  Christianity  "will  be  tolerant  even  of  non-Christian 
religions.  It  will  welcome  whatever  they  have  to  give 
which  is  of  value.  It  will  he  willing  to  judge  them  by 
their  fruits,  and  especially  by  their  effects  upon  social 
life  and  human  culture. 

But  the  toleration  of  positive  Christianity  can,  no  more 
than  that  of  science,  be  a  toleration  of  error.  It  asks  that 
all  religious  sects  submit  their  beliefs  to  the  tests  of  ex- 
perience and  reason.  ]^"o  doubt  a  large  liberty  will  always 
be  tolerated  in  transcendental  beliefs,  but  when  such  be- 
liefs vitally  affect  human  relations  their  truth  or  falsity 
must  be  judged  by  their  fruits.  To  be  tolerated  in  a 
rational  and  social  world  they  must  be  such  as  to  serve 
mankind.  In  the  long  run,  at  the  least,  they  must  show 
that  they  will  result  in  a  better  human  world — in  increas- 
ing rather  than  diminishing  human  fellowship.  For  re- 
ligion exists  for  man,  not  man  for  religion.  To  this 
extent  positive  Christianity  will  agree  with  Comte  that 
in  its  values  and  judgments  religion  must  be  anthropo- 
centric;  that  is  to  say,  it  must  be  developed  in  harmony 
with  social  science.  This  is  only  reiterating,  however, 
our  fundamental  principles  that  religion  is  an  adaptive 
process,  that  it  should  be  redemptive,  and  that  humanity 
is  the  ultimate  subject  of  its  redemption. 

Many  proposals  are  being  put  forth  for  the  creation  and 
establishment  of  a  new  religion,  since  Christianity,  it  is 
asserted,  is  hopelessly  discredited.  But  the  religion  of 
Jesus  has  not  been  discredited ;  it  is  only  the  practices  of 
so-called  Christians  and  Christian  churches.  Apart  from 
the  difficulties  of  such  an  enterprise  under  the  complex 
conditions  of  modern  life,  a  new  religion  would  surely 
defeat  its  very  purpose.  For  what  our  world  needs  most 
at  the  present  time  is  to  acknowledge  the  social  and  moral 


POSITIVE  CHKISTIANITY  159 

leadership  of  Jesus.  The  most  idealistic  religious  move- 
ment that  neglected  this  element  of  personal  leadership 
would  defeat  itself.  If  there  be  those  to  whom  the  word 
"Christian"  is  an  offense  on  account  of  misrepresentations 
of  the  Christian  spirit  and  life,  yet  who  sincerely  desire 
a  Christian  world,  one  dominated  by  active  good  will, 
then  the  rational  thing  for  all  who  call  themselves  Chris- 
tians is  to  demonstrate  what  the  true  Christian  spirit  is. 
When  this  is  done,  and  when  moreover  people  understand 
that  scientifically  the  work  of  Jesus  in  religion  and  ethics 
is  comparable  to  the  work  of  the  great  founders  of  modern 
sciences,  then  there  will  be  no  more  objection  to  Christian 
religion  than  to  Copernican  astronomy.  Intellectually  one 
will  be  as  readily  accepted  as  the  other. 

The  solution  which  positive  Christianity  proposes  of  the 
religious  problem  of  our  time,  then,  is  simple.  Let  the 
religious  leaders  of  our  day  grasp  the  full  social  signifi- 
cance of  religion,  drop  their  theological  disputations,  give 
religion  the  positive,  humanitarian  trend  which  civiliza- 
tion demands,  recognize  that  their  essential  work  is  the 
maintenance  and  propagation  of  rational  social  values, 
and  teach  clearly,  as  Jesus  did,  that  the  only  possible 
service  of  God  must  consist  in  the  service  of  men  regard- 
less of  their  race,  class,  or  condition.  Let  also  the  recog- 
nized basis  of  religious  fellowship  become  full  consecra- 
tion to  the  service  of  mankind.  If  this  were  done,  not 
only  would  the  churches  forget  their  traditional  differ- 
ences, but  they  would  rally  to  their  support  all  good  men 
everywhere  and  eventually  overcome  all  their  active  op- 
ponents.1 This  is  not  advocating  something  novel.  Al- 

1  Again  we  may  quote  Conklin  (op.  cit.  p.  244)  :  "The  time  may 
come  sooner  than  some  of  us  expect  when  in  all  things  except  spirit 
and  purpose,  religion  may  once  more  be  a  personal  matter;  when 
churches  will  welcome  all  men  of  good  will;  when  love  of  God  and 
love  of  fellow  men  will  be  the  one  requirement  for  mutual  fellowship 


160     THE  EECOJSTSTKUCTION  OF  BELIGION 

ready  this  movement  is  well  under  way  in  the  more 
advanced  Christian  churches.  But  the  time  has  come  to 
take  seriously  in  hand  the  reconstruction  of  our  religious 
life  along  humanitarian  lines.  For  it  is  only  an  actually 
realized  humanitarian  religion,  sanctioning  and  enforcing 
a  humanitarian  ethics  and  working  in  harmony  with  mod- 
ern social  science  which  can  guarantee  peace  and  good  will 
among  classes,  nations,  and  races,  and  prevent  the  collapse 
of  our  civilization.  On  the  other  hand  if  such  a  religion 
of  human  service  becomes  generally  accepted  all  of  the 
irrational,  unsocial,  and  unprogressive  elements  in  our  re- 
ligious life  would  disappear,  and  actual  Christianity 
would  become  "the  religion  of  humanity." 

and  service.  When  that  time  comes,  religion  and  science  will  be  at 
one."  For  a  simple  outline  of  such  a  Christianity  in  harmony  with 
modern  science,  see  Ames,  The  New  Orthodoxy. 


CHAPTEE  VI 

THE  ESSENTIALS  OF   A  SOCIAL,  BELIGIOBT 

WE  have  outlined  the  great  general  principles  which 
we  must  follow  if  we  are  to  reconstruct  religion  so  as  to 
meet  the  requirements  of  modern  life.  'Now  we  must  try 
to  see  the  social  implications  of  all  this,  both  in  general 
ancf  in  particular.  What  social  principles,  in  other  words, 
does  social  science  *  indicate  as  essential  for  a  positive 
social  religion  ?  If  institutions  are  to  be  saved  as  well  as 
individuals,  what  is  the  doctrine  of  social  salvation? 
How  shall  we  build  our  social  world  ?  If  we  build  it  in 
accordance  with  modern  social  science,  will  it  turn  out 
to  be  the  world  of  Jesus'  vision,  a  "kingdom  of  God  ?"  2 
These  questions  we  shall  try  to  answer  in  the  succeeding 
chapters  of  this  book. 

In  part  we  have  already  indicated  the  answers.  We 
have  seen,  for  example,  that  social  science  demands  a 
religion  which  will  release  the  creative  energies  of  man; 
which  will  not  only  inspire  faith  and  hope  in  individual 
life,  but  enthuse  communities  for  progress;  which  will  not 

1  The  term  "social  science,"  it  should  be  remembered,  is  used  in 
this  book  to  include  not  only  the  "pure"  social  sciences,  but  also 
social    ethics    and    the    applied    social    sciences.     See    foot-note    in 
Preface,  p.  x. 

2  A  number  of  writers   following  Coe    (see  his   Social  Theory  of 
Religious  Education)  prefer  such  a  term  as  "the  democracy  of  God," 
or  "the  commonwealth  of  God,"  as  the  New  Testament  "kingdom  of 
God"  is  thought  no  longer  properly  to  convey  the  meaning  intended. 
The   exact   term   employed    is,    of   course,    immaterial,   provided   the 
proper  social  content   is  given   to  it,   corresponding  to  the  content 
given  to  the  New  Testament  term  by  Jesus. 

161 


162     THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

only  strengthen  and  uplift  individuals,  "but  send  them 
forth  to  build  a  new  and  better  social  world.  We  have 
seen  that  such  a  religion  must  depend  practically  upon 
knowledge  of  all  the  forces  which  make  or  mar  human 
life,  whether  in  its  individual  or  in  its  collective  aspects; 
that  is,  it  must  ally  itself  with  science.  A  positive  social 
religion  and  social  science  will  be  accordingly  in  practice 
inseparable.  We  have  seen  finally  that  such  a  religion 
will  blend  religion  and  ethics  by  giving  a  social  direction 
to  religious  practices,  recognizing  that  the  only  possible 
service  of  God  must  consist  in  the  service  of  men — the 
fundamental  principle,  as  we  have  so  often  reiterated,  of 
the  religion  of  Jesus. 

The  postulate  of  such  a  religion  of  human  service  must, 
of  course,  be  the  supreme  worth  of  men,  no  matter  what 
their  race,  class,  or  condition  may  be,  so  that  even  the 
humblest  service  done  for  men  takes  on  a  new  dignity, 
because  it  is  a  service  rendered  to  God.  This  is  the  cen- 
tral teaching  of  all  social  religion,  and  of  the  religion  of 
Jesus  in  particular.  Is  it  the  teaching  of  social  science? 

Modern  social  science  shows  beyond  question  that  all 
the  wealth  of  the  world  really  resides  in  men;  that  there 
are  no  values  of  any  sort  apart  from  men;  and  that  all 
the  values  which  we  know  are  their  creation.  Human 
1  beings,  in  other  words,  are  not  only  the  sole  sources  of 
value,  but  they  are  the  supreme  values.  The  develop- 
ment of  the  resources  which  are  in  men,  therefore,  is  the 
only  way  in  which  the  world  can  be  permanently  enriched 
along  any  line.1  Hence  the  greatest  concern  of  human 
society  must  be  the  production  of  men  who  can  take  their 

1  This  truth,  now  accepted  by  all  economists,  received  early  and 
vigorous  championship  by  such  economic  writers  as  Richard  T.  Ely 
in  America  and  J.  A.  Hobson  in  England.  Compare  Carver,  Principles 
of  Political  Economy,  Chapter  VI. 


ESSENTIALS  OF  A  SOCIAL  KELIGION      163 

place  in  our  human  world  and  help  to  carry  on  its  life 
in  the  best  ways  possible. 

But  it  is  not  men  in  isolation  that  social  science  dis- 
covers to  be  valuable.  Men  create  values  only  by  coming 
into  relationships  with  other  men,  and  they  create  them 
directly  in  proportion  as  they  work  together  successfully 
at  the  tasks  of  life.  The  collective  life  of  men  which  we 
call  society,  in  other  words,  is  carried  on  by  the  continual 
exchange  of  services  between  men.  It  is  by  mutual  service 
that  men  live.  It  is  this  reciprocity  of  service  which  is 
the  basis  of  all  human  institutions  and  all  civilization. 
The  more  intense  this  exchange  of  services  is,  the  more 
social  values  are  produced  and  the  more  social  life  is  built 
up;  and  the  more  equal  the  exchange  is,  the  more  satis- 
fying and  harmonious  is  the  social  life.1  In  other  words, 
social  science  finds  co-operation  to  be  the  inner,  construc- 
tive principle  of  group  life;  and  the  wider  and  the  more 
harmonious  this  co-operation  is,  the  richer  and  the  more 
perfect  is  the  social  life  of  mankind  as  a  whole.2  Civili- 
zation and  all  its  values,  then,  depend  upon  the  continu- 
ance and  development  of  co-operation  among  men.  Obvi- 
ously a  social  religion  must  aim  to  maximize  co-operation, 
and  it  will  be  successful  in  doing  this  only  as  it  teaches 
the  value  of  mutual  service.  The  inculcation  in  the  in- 


1  See  Novicow,  "Mechanism  and  Limits  of  Human  Association"  (in 
American  Journal  of  Sociology,  November,  1917),  especially  Chapters 
II  and  III. 

1  Practically  all  modern  sociology  of  scientific  standing  has  united 
to  demonstrate  this  truth.  See,  e.  g.,  Small,  General  Sociology,  p.  710; 
Ross,  Principles  of  Sociology,  Chapter  XXI ;  Todd,  Theories  of  Social 
Progress,  p.  41.  On  the  biological  side  evidence  will  be  found  in  such 
writers,  among  many  others,  as  J.  Arthur  Thomson,  David  Starr 
Jordan,  Vernon  Kellogg,  and  William  Patten.  Professor  Patten's 
recent  work,  The  Grand  Strategy  of  Evolution:  The  Social  Philosophy 
of  a  Biologist,  is  especially  interesting  as  showing  that  the  conflict 
philosophy  of  society  is  without  adequate  biological  foundation.  See 
especially  Chapter  I. 


164     THE  KECONSTKUCTIOJST  OF  KELIGICXN" 

dividual   of  the   attitude   of  service   toward  his  fellows 
must,  ihen,  be  the  primary  aim  of  a  social  religion. 

If  a  social  religion  must  first  of  all  teach  social  service 
the  question  still  remains  what  sort  of  service  shall  it  be. 
Assuming  always  that  the  service  is  intelligent,  is  it  to  be 
rendered  chiefly  in  a  material  or  in  a  spiritual  way  ?  Is 
the  most  social  religion  the  one  which  will  maximize  eco- 
nomic co-operation  and  economic  production?  Or  will  it 
pay  even  more  attention  to  the  production  of  non-economic 
values?  Moreover,  is  service  to  be  rendered  indifferently 
to  the  strong  and  to  the  weak,  or  will  social  religion  em- 
phasize especially  service  to  those  in  need  of  help  ? 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  social  religion  as  well  as 
social  science  must  teach  the  fundamental  importance  of 
producing  material  goods  and  of  satisfying  the  economic 
wants  of  men.  Feeding  the  hungry  and  clothing  the 
naked  are  obviously  the  primary  services  needed  by  human 
beings.  Services  rendered  to  meet  the  material  needs  of 
men,  especially  when  these  needs  are  great,  are  of  the 
highest  social,  and  so,  ethical  and  religious,  value;  for 
until  these  needs  are  satisfied  there  can  be  no  development 
of  the  higher,  spiritual  life  of  men.  We  must  all  agree 
that  in  this  sense  "the  greatest  service  of  all  is  the  service 
of  food."  * 

But  material  goods,  as  Aristotle  long  ago  remarked, 
though  living  in  a  pagan  world,  have  a  limit  to  their  social 
utility;  and  that  limit  is  their  power  to  promote  the  de- 
velopment of  the  higher,  spiritual  life  of  men.  Too  great 
an  abundance  of  material  goods,  so  far  from  aiding  higher 
social  and  moral  development,  becomes  an  impediment  to 
it.  This  is  true,  so  far  as  we  know,  even  if  material 

1  For  further  discussion  of  the  relations  of  religion  and  material 
needs,  see  Chapter  VIII. 


ESSENTIALS  OF  A  SOCIAL  KELIGION     165 

goods  are  evenly  distributed  in  society.  No  matter  how 
evenly  distributed,  too  great  an  abundance  of  material 
goods  would  be  sure  to  undermine  the  higher  spiritual 
life  of  men  and  lead  to  besotted  materialism,  in  the  moral 
sense  of  the  term.  It  is  true,  of  course,  that  the  danger 
of  too  great  a  general  abundance  of  material  goods  is 
relatively  remote  in  our  civilization,  and  that  which  ap- 
pears to  be  such  a  danger  is  really  due  to  the  concentra- 
tion of  wealth  in  the  hands  of  a  few.  But  this  fact 
cannot  obscure  the  truth  of  the  general  principle  that  the 
social  utility  of  material  goods  is  limited,  not  only  for 
any  one  social  class,  but  for  all  social  classes. 

It  is  not  an  accident,  then,  that  the  higher  religions 
quite  generally  condemn  too  great  accumulation  of  such 
goods,  and  invariably  counsel  contentedness  with  small 
means.  This  is  not  merely  to  secure  the  distribution  of 
such  goods  to  the  unfortunate,  nor  is  it  usually  for  the 
sake  of  mere  asceticism,  as  is  so  often  alleged.  The  reason 
is  more  simple;  for  as  social  science  shows,  the  energy  of 
society  at  a  given  time  being  a  fixed  quantity,  energy 
devoted  to  the  production  of  material  goods  after  neces- 
sities are  met  cannot  be  devoted  to  building  up  family 
life,  government,  religion,  art,  science,  and  education.  If 
we  want  the  higher  life  of  society  in  art,  science,  educa- 
tion, religion,  government,  and  the  family  to  develop, 
then,  the  energy  devoted  to  the  production  of  material 
goods  must  be  limited. 

To  be  sure,  what  are  material  necessities  and  what  is 
;over-abundance  of  material  goods,  social  science  would 
isay,  are  relative  matters,  dependent  upon  the  stage  of 
social  culture.  But  this  does  not  detract  from  the  force 
of  the  conclusion  just  stated,  and  it  is  evident  therefore 
that  it  is  not  sufficient  for  social  religion  merely  to  teach 


166     THE  EECONSTBFOTION  OF  KELIGIOST 

that  men  render  service  when  they  work  in  the  economic 
sense  and  are  good  producers.  Society  needs  services 
beyond  these  economic  services.  The  services  rendered  by 
individuals  as  fathers  and  mothers,  as  brothers  and  sisters, 
as  friends  and  neighbors,  as  members  of  communities, 
through  the  family,  government,  art,  religion,  science,  and 
education,  in  the  production  of  healthy,  happy,  intelligent, 
unselfish  men  and  women,  may  be  dominantly  non- 
economic;  but  they  are  the  services  which  count  most  in 
the  building  of  civilization ;  and  in  proportion  as  men  put 
energy  into  these  services,  after  material  necessities  are 
provided,  in  that  proportion  is  the  ideal  of  social  life 
realized.  The  production  of  men,  not  commodities,  must 
be  the  aim  of  sound  social  religion.  The  end  of  all  social 
service  should,  therefore,  be  spiritual.  It  would,  indeed, 
be  quite  unnecessary  to  say  these  things  if  the  prevailing 
materialism  of  our  time  had  not  obscured  these  truths  and 
even  often  denied  them.1 

When  social  religion  demands  the  complete  consecration 
of  the  individual  to  the  service  of  his  fellowmen,  there- 
fore, it  is  calling  him  to  a  spiritual  service.  It  is  not  the 
service  of  making  men  happy  and  contented  animals,  but 
rather  of  developing  them  into  truly  human,  intelligent, 
loyal  members  of  an  ideal  society — a  redeemed  humanity. 
And  in  this,  social  religion  is  one  with  the  religion  of 
Jesus,  which,  while  recognizing  the  fundamental  character 
of  the  needs  of  men  in  a  material  way,  looks  to  their  sal- 
vation into  a  spiritual  social  order  as  the  end. 

Is  the  human  service,  which  social  religion  enjoins,  to 
be  rendered  indifferently  to  the  strong  and  the  weak,  or 
will  it  emphasize  the  service  of  those  who  are  in  need 
of  help  ?  Modern  social  science  discovers  that  human  com- 

1  See  again  Chapter  VIII. 


ESSENTIALS  OF  A  SOCIAL  KELIGION     167 

munities  progress  very  largely  in  proportion  as  they  raise 
the  general  level  or  average  of  their  total  life;  and  this 
level  is  raised  not  by  producing  a  few  superior  indi- 
viduals, hut  by  raising  the  weak,  developing  the  unde- 
veloped, and  fitting  as  many  as  possible  for  the  best  pos- 
sible life.  Human  societies,  in  other  words,  progress  not 
through  producing  supermen,  but  through  the  diffusion 
of  welfare  and  intelligence  among  the  masses  of  mankind. 
It  is  in  the  undeveloped  personalities  and  characters  of  men 
that  society  has  its  chief  potential  resources.  Whenever 
the  ignorant  can  be  made  intelligent,  the  vicious  good, 
the  physically  weak  the  physically  strong,  society  has 
added  to  the  strength  of  all;  for  the  strength  of  human 
groups  consists  in  extending  and  intensifying  their  power 
to  co-operate.  All  civilized  human  groups,  therefore, 
strive  to  fit  not  only  as  many  as  possible  of  their  members 
to  survive,  but  for  the  best  possible  living.  A  sound 
social  religion  will,  therefore,  emphasize  service  to  the 
needy  and  the  weak.1  Its  emphasis  will  not  be  so  much 
upon  the  fraternity  of  the  strong  as  upon  showing  fra- 
ternity toward  those  who  need  help. 

This  we  have  seen  is  a  distinctive  mark  of  Christianity. 
As  a  social  religion  its  peculiar  note  has  been  the  redemp- 
tion of  the  vicious,  the  helping  of  the  needy,  and  the 
strengthening  of  the  weak.  In  our  world,  so  far  as  we 
can  see,  for  a  long  time  to  come,  social  religion  will  have 
to  emphasize  this  redemptive  work.  Its  main  practical 
preoccupation  will  have  to  be  bringing  knowledge  to  the 
ignorant,  virtue  to  the  vicious,  health  to  the  sick,  wealth 

1  A  further  sociological  reason  for  this  is  the  impossibility  under 
modern  conditions  of  maintaining  in  the  same  community  two  dif- 
ferent levels  of  civilization  without  gravitation  toward  the  lower 
level.  No  community,  in  other  words,  can  rise  far  above  its  worst 
socially  tolerated  conditions.  Vice  or  typhoid,  e.  g.,  in  one  section  of 
the  community  endangers  all  the  rest.  This  ie  a  familiar  sociological 
principle. 


168     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

to  the  poverty  stricken,  and  strength  to  the  weak  of  every 
sort.  It  will  seek  to  do  this,  to  be  sure,  by  prevention, 
wherever  possible,  rather  than  by  cure;  but  the  chasms 
which  exist  in  modern  society  must  be  bridged,  and  they 
cannot  be  bridged  by  levelling  men  down,  but  only  by 
helping  them  up  to  higher  levels  whenever  and  wherever 
that  is  possible.  A  religion  which  is  adapted  to  the  re- 
quirements of  our  present  world  must  very  evidently  be 
a  socially  redemptive  religion. 

But  service  which  is  rendered  under  compulsion,  even 
though  it  be  only  the  compulsion  of  religious  and  moral 
precepts,  soon  becomes  slavery.  Only  a  service  which  is 
spontaneous,  which  springs  from  inner  motives,  can  con- 
tinue to  be  rendered  gladly.  A  social  religion  that 
merely  teaches  service  as  an  outward  form  is  not  enough. 
Social  religion  must  above  all,  therefore,  cultivate  the 
inner  attitudes  and  motives  which  issue  in  service.  A 
genuinely  social  religion  must  teach  emotional  attitudes 
which  naturally,  spontaneously,  issue  in  social  service.  It 
must,  as  we  say,  touch  the  heart  of  man.  In  other  words, 
a  social  religion  must  kindle  the  sympathetic  emotions. 
Service  must  be  motivated  by  love  to  have  the  highest 
social  value.  Religion  must  become  a  great  device  to 
accumulate,  diffuse,  and  transmit  altruism  in  society.  It 
must  inculcate  the  love  of  man  as  man.  It  must  develop 
a  sense  of  human  brotherhood  throughout  humanity.  It 
must  cultivate  love,  not  simply  towards  a  few  men,  to- 
wards one's  own  social  set,  or  nation,  or  race,  but  towards 
all  men.1 

This  is  not  "oriental  mysticism,"  as  it  is  so  often  said 

1  Compare  the  argument  in  Hohhouse.  The  national  Good,  especially 
Chapter  VI.  The  word  "love"  is  used  in  this  chapter  and  throughout 
the  book,  of  course,  in  the  ethical  sense,  meaning  active  good  wiV 
or  devotion  to  the  welfare  of  others. 


ESSENTIALS  OF  A  SOCIAL  RELIGION     169 

to  be  by  the  "hard"  school  of  social  thinkers;  nor  is  it 
impracticable.  On  the  contrary,  social  experience  shows 
that  the  only  secure  foundation  of  co-operation  in  human 
groups  is  active  good  will  based  upon  the  sympathy  and 
understanding  of  all  their  members,  and  that  human  co- 
operation has  widened  in  proportion  as  sympathy  and  the 
consciousness  of  kind  have  widened.1  Wherever  the 
attempt  has  been  made  to  base  co-operation  upon  mere 
self-interest,  there  an  unstable  social  situation  has  resulted, 
which  sooner  or  later  has  issued  in  open  conflict.  Only 
good  will  based  upon  active  sympathy  has  proved  equal 
to  producing  lasting  social  solidarity. 

This  is  natural,  some  may  say,  in  small  human  groups 
such  as  the  family,  the  local  community,  the  ancient  city- 
state,  and  even  in  modern  social  classes;  but  it  is  impos- 
sible where  there  are  wide  differences  among  men,  and 
especially  differences  in  material  interests;  there  it  be- 
comes "mysticism."  But  social  investigation  shows  that 
there  has  been  a  constant  expansion  of  sympathy  and  good 
will  in  human  history  to  larger  and  larger  groups,  and 
that  we  cannot  set  limits  to  this  expansion,  which  appar- 
ently depends  entirely  upon  the  education  of  individuals.2 

1  Roe  the  author's  Introduction  to  Social  Psychology,  pp.  255-256. 
Compare  also  Professor  Giddings's  statement  of  the  same  conclusion 
in  his  Descriptive  and  Historical  Sociology,  pp.  298-300,  303-305, 
352-355. 

J  Says  Professor  Cooley  (Social  Organization,  p.  203)  :  "The  mind, 
in  its  best  moments,  is  naturally  Christian;  because  when  we  are 
most  fully  alive  to  the  life  about  us,  the  sympathetic  becomes  the 
rational ;  what  is  good  for  you  is  good  for  me  because  I  share  your 
life:  and  I  need  no  urging  to  do  by  you  as  I  would  have  you  do  by  me. 
Justice  and  kindness  are  matters  of  course,  and  also  humility,  which 
comes  from  being  aware  of  something  superior  to  your  ordinary  self. 
To  one  in  whom  human  nature  is  fully  awake,  Hove  your  enemies  and 
do  good  to  them  that  despitefully  use  you'  is  natural  and  easy, 
because  despiteful  people  are  seen  to  be  in  a  state  of  unhappy 
aberration  from  the  higher  life  of  kindness,  and  there  is  an  impulse 
to  help  them  to  got  back."  But  all  this  depends,  as  Todd  points  out 
(Theories  of  Social  Progress,  Chapter  V),  upon  the  cultivation  and 
development  of  a  sympathetic  or  socially  efficient  imagination. 


170     THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

It  shows,  moreover,  that  religion  especially  has  proved 
able  to  break  down  the  differences  between  men  and  unite 
the  most  diverse  in  bonds  of  sympathy  and  good  will,  or 
love.  This,  indeed,  we  have  seen  to  be  the  essential  social 
function  on  the  feeling  side  of  humanitarian  religion.  By 
universalizing  sympathetic  feeling,  or  love,  it  makes  pos- 
sible the  widest  possible  mutual  service  and  co-operation. 
Hence  the  first  and  great  commandment  of  social  religion 
must  be  universal  love,  or  good  will,  extending  even  to 
enemies,  and  reconciling  all  men  to  one  another.  To  be- 
come dynamic,  to  affect  human  motives,  a  social  religion 
must  promote  human  fellowship  and  so  must  teach  men 
to  cultivate  sympathy,  love. 

We  have  said  much  about  the  need  of  intelligence  in 
social  relations  and  even  of  the  need  of  the  control  of 
emotions  by  intelligence.  But,  even  from  the  standpoint 
of  social  science,  we  must  admit  the  equal  need  of  good 
will  to  build  an  ideal  society.  In  our  present  human 
world  with  its  seemingly  hopeless  division  into  hostile 
groups  of  all  sorts,  we  would  seem  to  be  more  in  need  of 
good  will,  indeed,  than  of  intelligence ;  for  until  good  will 
has  laid  a  basis  for  some  approach  there  would  seem  to 
be  little  opportunity  for  intelligence  to  function.  When 
one  contemplates  the  strife  and  hate  of  our  present  world, 
one  might  be  pardoned  if  he  claimed  that  the  world  needs 
good  will  more  than  science  or  art,  yes,  even  more  than 
food  and  shelter..  For  knowledge  can  be  secured  and  na- 
ture conquered  by  men  co-operating  in  the  work  of  life; 
but  knowledge  and  material  goods  avail  nothing  if  good 
will  is  lacking.  Moreover,  good  will  appears  equally 
necessary  "with  science  for  overcoming  strife,  crime,  pov- 
erty, and  ignorance.  For  man  lives  a  collective  life;  he 
shares  his  fate  with  his  fellow-men  around  him,  and  so 


ESSENTIALS  OF  A  SOCIAL  KELIGION     171 

of  necessity  he  lives  in  and  through  good  will.  No  man 
lives  to  himself  alone.  We  are  all  members  one  of 
another.  If  any,  even  the  humblest,  is  made  to  suffer, 
every  one  of  us,  whether  or  not  we  recognize  the  fact,  is 
thereby  injured.  These  assertions  are  not  mere  senti- 
ment; they  are  a  part  of  the  perceptions  of  sound  social 
science.  "The  whole  human  problem,"  as  Comte  said, 
"consists  in  establishing  unity,  personal  and  social,  by 
the  constant  subordination  of  selfishness  to  altruism." 

It  is  here,  of  course,  that  science  discovers  the  special 
need  of  social  religion  if  ever  co-operation  is  to  take  the 
place  of  the  world-wide  strife  of  the  present;  for  only 
social  religion  can  universalize  love,  or  good  will,  in  our 
world.  Material  interests  and  a  thousand  other  things 
divide  men.  It  is  religion,  as  we  have  seen,  which  uni- 
versalizes social  values.  Sane  science  recognizes  that  it 
alone  cannot  bridge  the  chasms  which  exist  in  our  human 
world.  Men's  hearts  must  be  touched.  To  bridge  the 
chasms  which  now  separate  in  so  many  cases  classes,  na- 
tions, and  races  a  religion  of  universal  love  is  alone  ade- 
quate. This  is  true  even  oftentimes  in  small  communi- 
ties. Even  in  them  our  imperfectly  developed  civiliza- 
tion often  premits  chasms  in  their  sympathies  to  grow  up 
between  men  which  make  real  unity  impossible  in  social 
living,  and  which  only  a  religion  that  cultivates  social 
sympathy,  or  love,  can  effectively  bridge. 

But  even  more  do  we  need  a  social  or  humanitarian 
religion  in  the  relations  of  the  greater  groups  of  men, 
such  as  classes,  nations,  and  races.  Here  the  need  of 
reconciliation  is  most  apparent,  for  here  strife  is  at  its 
maximum.  It  is  group  egoism  which  particularly  dis- 
turbs our  world  at  present,  and  menaces  its  future  even 
more.  If  the  world  wants  peace,  it  must  find  a  way  of 
breaking  down  the  barriers  of  misunderstanding  and 


172     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

selfishness  which  now  separate  classes,  nations,  and  races, 
and  of  realizing  universal  human  fellowship.  Science  can 
aid  here  by  showing  the  essential  identity  and  universal 
interdependence  of  all  men.  But  fellowship  is  realized 
not  simply  through  understanding,  but  even  more  through 
sympathy  and  active  good  will.  Manifestly,  where  there 
are  so  many  possibilities  of  misunderstanding  through 
differences  of  place,  of  interests,  and  of  condition,  there 
is  especial  need  of  a  religion  which  shall  cultivate  uni- 
versal sympathy  and  good  will,  or  love,  and  shall  inter- 
mediate between  such  great  groups. 

This  is  especially  so  in  the  case  of  nations  and  races, 
for  here  the  traditional  attitude  has  been  not  only  one  of 
egoism  and  isolation,  but  also  one  of  fear,  distrust,  and 
hate.  No  mere  peace  treaties,  or  league  of  nations,  or 
"balance  of  power"  can  under  such  circumstances  success- 
fully put  an  end  to  strife.  Rather  the  whole  spirit  of 
nations  must  be  changed.  A  basis  for  enduring  reconcilia- 
tion must  be  found.  Group  egoism  as  a  policy  and  prac- 
tice must  be  discredited;  and  in  place  of  fear,  distrust, 
and  hate  must  come  understanding,  confidence,  and  good 
will.  Now,  as  Gautama  Buddha  said  long  before  Jesus, 
"Hatred  does  not  cease  by  hatred,  but  by  love."  It  is 
love,  in  other  words,  which  overcomes  hate  and  reconciles 
men  to  one  another.  This  is  as  true  of  groups  of  men  as 
of  individuals.  Manifestly  "the  healing  of  the  nations" 
requires  a  religion  of  humanity,  which  shall  teach  the  love 
and  service  of  all  men.  Only  thus  can  the  foundations  of 
enduring  peace  be  laid. 

No  scientific  social  thinker  doubts  that  the  cessation  of 
strife  and  the  coming  of  durable  peace  is  the  great  im- 

1  Rhys-Davids,  Buddhism,  p.  128.  The  exact  quotation  is,  "For 
never  in  this  world  does  hatred  cease  by  hatred;  hatred  ceases  by 
love;  this  is  always  its  nature." 


ESSENTIALS  OF  A  SOCIAL  RELIGION     173 

mediate  need  of  our  world ;  for  peace  is  an  indispensable 
condition  for  all  the  constructive  work  of  civilization.1 
It  is  not  simply  international  peace,  however,  which  is 
needed,  but  rather  general  social  peace;  for  at  bottom  all 
war  is  but  a  symptom  of  an  egoistic,  predatory  spirit  in 
civilization  in  general.  Now,  a  religion  of  the  love  and 
service  of  all  men  would  lay  a  foundation  for  lasting  social 
peace,  because,  first  of  all,  it  would  repudiate  force  and 
selfishness  as  bases  for  human  relations  and  with  them 
the  whole  pagan  philosophy  that  might  is  right  or  can 
make  right,  that  human  beings  can  profit  by  living  at  the 
expense  of  other  human  beings,  that  to  dominate  is  the 
end  of  existence.  It  would  place  in  the  stead  of  these 
anti-social  doctrines,  patterns  of  good  will,  of  mutual 
service,  of  solidarity,  of  sacrifice  for  the  good  of  all,  taken 
from  the  family  life.  Such  patterns,  accepted  as  the  su- 
preme social  values,  would  shatter  group  egoism  and  open 
up  the  way  for  the  establishment  and  maintenance  of 
normal,  helpful,  co-operative  relations  in  the  great  groups 
of  men,  because  the  conciliatory  attitude  would  then  be 
held  in  honor,  as  it  is  now  in  the  normal  family;  and 
when  a  wrong  has  been  done,  it  would  point  the  way  to 
the  restoration  of  social  unity.  Groups  would  no  longer 
seek  to  remedy  injustice  by  returning  wrong  for  wrong, 
evil  for  evil,  but  by  finding  means  of  mutual  conciliation. 
Their  whole  spirit  would  be  changed,  because  their  stand- 
ards of  conduct  would  be  different  and  their  attention 
would  be  centered  upon  co-operation  rather  than  upon  con- 
flict. This  is  the  only  pathway  to  permanent  social  peace 
among  men. 

But  how  far,  it  may  be  asked,  is  this  principle  of  active 

1  For  elaboration,  see  the  author's  discussion  of  "War  and  Social 
Evolution,"  Chapter  III,  in  America  and  the  New  Era,  edited  by 
E.  M.  Friedman. 


174     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

good  will,  or  love,  to  be  carried  ?  Is  it  practicable  unless 
it  is  accepted  as  the  guiding  principle  of  conduct  by  all  ? 
Is  it  not,  in  a  world  so  largely  ruled  by  egoism  as  ours, 
apt  to  be  nothing  more  than  a  mere  hypocritical,  and  even 
dangerous,  sentiment?  The  reply  is  that  social  science 
has  discovered  no  way  in  which  the  world  can  be  trans- 
formed from  a  world  of  egoism  and  strife  to  one  of  fel- 
lowship except  by  the  leadership,  and  if  necessary  the 
suffering,  of  those  who  have  the  vision  of  a  better  human 
world.  Men  are  imitative  creatures.  They  are  prone  to 
treat  others  as  they  are  treated  by  others.  But  they  are 
also  intelligent  creatures,  and  they  usually  select  as  pat- 
terns for  imitation  conduct  which  experience  shows  to 
work  best  with  themselves  and  with  others.  Hence  while 
strife  breeds  strife,  and  hate  breeds  hate,  kindliness  also 
breeds  kindliness,  and  love,  love;  but  the  superior  satis- 
factions in  the  latter  case  are  evident  even  to  the  dullest 
mind.  There  can  be  no  question  that  kindliness  and  love 
would  soon  win  out  if  this  were  a  fully  intelligent  world. 
But  strong,  brutal  passions  persist,  and  traditions  of 
selfishness  and  strife  are  hard  to  uproot.  However,  to 
wait  till  all  accept  the  principle  of  love  as  the  guide  of 
their  conduct  would  be  to  postpone  indefinitely  progress 
toward  a  world  of  universal  good  will.  Rather  it  is  evi- 
dent that  the  world  must  be  redeemed  by  growing  love  as 
well  as  by  growing  intelligence.  "Hatred  does  not  cease 
by  hatred,  but  by  love."  A  positive  social  religion  must 
teach  love  or  good  will,  therefore,  a$  an  absolute  principle. 
Love  must  be  extended  to  all,  even  to  the  lowest  and 
meanest  of  mankind.  Otherwise  it  must  fail  as  the  prin- 
ciple of  social  redemption.  Love  breeds  love,  good  will, 
and  because  it  is  socially  right  it  overcomes  hate,  just  as 
truth,  because  it  is  right,  overcomes  error.  It  harmonizes, 


ESSENTIALS  OF  A  SOCIAL  RELIGION     175 

because  it  adjusts  individuals,  so  far  as  motives  are  con- 
cerned, to  the  requirements  of  social  life. 

It  is  particularly  necessary  that  good  will  be  main- 
tained toward  enemies;  otherwise  there  will  be  no  basis 
for  reconciliation  and  the  restoration  of  genuine  social 
relations.  Plainly  the  duty  of  forgiveness  is  a  clear 
corollary  to  the  doctrine  of  universal  good  will.  But  this 
does  not  mean  that  we  are  to  condone  wrong-doing  and 
meanness.  Nor  does  it  mean  that  we  are  to  offer  no 
impediment  to  the  wrong-doer  in  his  wrong-doing.  But 
it  does  mean  that  we  are  to  distinguish  between  the 
wrong-doer  and  his  evil  deed.  While  society  must  combat 
wrong-doing,  its  duty  is  always  to  reclaim  the  wrong-doer, 
if  that  is  possible.  Whatever  it  does  to  the  wrong-doer 
must  be  dictated  by  good  will,  and  must  be  for  his  social 
redemption  as  well  as  for  the  benefit  of  all.  If  physical 
force  is  to  be  employed,  its  use  must  be  controlled  by  good 
will.  The  pattern  here,  as  everywhere  in  the  social  life, 
is  the  family.  There  we  do  not  reprehend  the  use  of 
physical  force  under  certain  circumstances,  provided  that 
its  use  is  controlled  by  intelligence  and  love.  Its  use  is 
indeed  necessary  at  times  in  the  case  of  abnormal  and  un- 
developed individuals,  and  is  in  no  way  inconsistent  with 
the  principle  of  love.  So  in  society  at  large  the  use  of 
physical  force  to  stop  wrong-doing  when  necessary  is  in 
no  way  inconsistent  with  the  principle  of  universal  love, 
provided  its  use  is  controlled  by  intelligent  good  will. 
Such,  for  example,  is,  or  should  be,  the  use  of  its  police 
powers  by  an  enlightened  government.  Indeed,  as  we 
shall  see,  good  will,  in  order  to  be  socially  effective,  must 
always  be  organized  both  negatively,  to  repress  evil,  and 
positively,  to  promote  the  good. 

Social  science  does  not  find,  therefore,  that  there  is  any 


176     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

necessary  sentimentality  or  moral  flabbiness  connected 
with  the  principle  of  universal  love;  nor  does  it  find  any 
such  taint  attached  to  the  concept  of  redeeming  love. 
Love  as  a  social  principle  does  not  mean  "coddling" ;  nor 
does  readiness  to  forgive  encourage  evil,  as  is  sometimes 
claimed.  Rather  it  is  the  only  method  of  reclaiming  and 
restoring  the  socially  erring.  This  world  is  filled  not  only 
with  undeveloped  individuals  and  peoples  who  need  help, 
but  also  with  individuals  and  groups  who  have  erred  and 
socially  lost  their  way.  Indeed,  since  sin  is  a  social  mat- 
ter— the  outcome  of  social  as  well  as  individual  conditions 
— practically  the  whole  world  presents  this  condition  at 
the  present  time.  A  religion  which  is  going  to  be  any 
good  in  such  a  world  must  stress  a  sacrificial,  redeeming 
love  toward  all  men  as  the  supreme  need — a  love  which 
will  lead  men  to  sacrifice  themselves  without  stint  or 
limit  in  order  to  serve  mankind;  to  die,  if  necessary,  in 
order  that  the  world  may  be  freed  from  sin  and  error. 
Sacrifice  as  an  end  in  itself  cannot  be  justified  by  either 
sound  religion  or  sound  science;  but  sacrifice  as  a  means 
of  human  service  is  an  altogether  different  matter.  Social 
religion  regards  sacrifice  when  prompted  by  love  and  made 
for  the  sake  of  human  service  the  supreme  measure  of  the 
ethical  and  religious  spirit;  and  social  science  sees  in  such 
enthusiasm  of  humanity  the  height  of  social  passion  and, 
when  guided  and  controlled  by  adequate  intelligence,  the 
best  promise  of  the  world's  ultimate  redemption. 

But  the  sacrificial  love  which  social  religion  inculcates 
has  a  more  common,  everyday  significance,  science  dis- 
covers, apart  from  great  socially  redemptive  movements. 
For  men  live  together,  social  science  reveals,  not  merely 
by  the  exchange  of  services,  but  also  by  the  exchange  of 
sacrifices — that  is,  by  rendering  services  to  one  another 


ESSENTIALS  OF  A  SOCIAL  KELIGION     177 

for  which  no  like  service  is,  or  can  he,  rendered  in  return. 
The  very  conditions  of  human  life  necessitate  this.  Every 
generation  of  men,  for  example,  must  stand,  so  to  speak, 
upon  the  shoulders  of  the  preceding  generations.  Un- 
counted toil  and  suffering  of  hundreds  of  generations  have 
made  possible  whatever  we  enjoy  to-day ;  but  we  too  must 
toil  and  suffer  if  the  world  to-morrow  is  to  live  a  nobler 
life. 

But  our  imperfect  social  development  necessitates  even 
more  that  we  live  by  the  exchange  of  sacrifices.  The 
wealth  of  the  world,  for  example,  is  very  inadequate  to 
meet  even  reasonable  human  needs,  and  if  the  economic 
income  of  even  the  richest  nations  were  equally  divided, 
it  would  still  be  inadequate  to  maintain  a  proper  standard 
of  living  for  each  family.  But  it  is  socially  unwise  and 
impossible  to  divide  a  society's  economic  income  equally. 
Hence  many  must  sacrifice  and  suffer  that  the  life  of  the 
group  may  continue  and  social  evolution  go  on.  While 
we  rightly  strive  to  lessen  this  sacrifice,  yet  no  one  can 
escape  the  conclusion  that  human  progress  in  the  past  has 
rested,  and  at  present  rests,  largely  upon  vicarious  suffer- 
ing— suffering  for  the  sake  of  producing  a  better  human 
world.  "If  we  succeed  without  suffering,  it  is  because 
some  one  has  suffered  before  us;  if  we  suffer  without  suc- 
cess, it  is  because  some  one  will  succeed  after  us."  Thus 
the  active  good  will  which  a  social  religion  must  seek  to 
develop  in  men  is  one  which  will  ever  be  ready  to  sacrifice 
self  for  the  sake  of  service;  for  we  can  have  an  ideal  so- 
ciety only  when  every  person  volunteers  to  sacrifice  him- 
self for  the  good  of  the  whole. 

Says  Professor  Small:  "When  men  fully  understand 
the  world,  they  will  understand  that  Jesus  was  right  about 
sacrifice.  They  will  understand  that  sacrifice  is  loss  only 
so  long  as  it  is  exceptional  and  forced.  When  we  face 


178     THE  RECONSTKUCTIOjtf  OF  EELIGION 

sacrifice  loyally,  when  we  join  in  a  general  economy  of 
sacrifice,  when  we  refuse  knowingly  to  gain  except  by  in- 
tending a  gain  for  somebody  else,,  the  balance  of  the  total 
transactions  with  sacrifice  will  have  passed  from  the  debit 
to  the  credit  side  of  the  world's  account.  This  is  a  vicari- 
ous world  but  not  as  stupidly  conceived  by  the  mediaeval 
theologians  who  located  the  one  vicarious  act  of  impor- 
tance in  the  death  on  the  cross.  Life  is  vicarious  in  that 
its  processes  begin  and  continue  and  end  with  exchanges 
of  sacrifices,  wherever  there  are  moral  beings/' 

Here  becomes  evident  the  inadequacy  of  the  ideal  of 
justice,  as  ordinarily  conceived — that  is,  "fair  dealing" — 
as  the  basic  principle  of  social  life.  To  be  sure,  we  are 
so  far  from  having  achieved  justice  that  to  many  it  seems 
an  adequate  social  ideal.  ISTor  is  it  to  be  criticized  as  in- 
consistent with  the  principle  of  love.  On  the  contrary, 
justice  could  not  long  exist  in  human  relations  without 
good  will,  and  active  good  will  is  the  surest  guarantee  of 
justice  among  men.  Justice  as  a  social  principle  is  to  be 
criticized  as  inadequate  only  in  the  sense  that  it  is  socially 
insufficient  in  such  a  world  as  ours.  Active  good  will 
must  go  further  than  mere  justice  in  its  work  of  saving 
men  and  redeeming  the  world.  Men  need  mercy  as  well 
as  justice.  Deep  compassion  for  men,  intense  social  feel- 
ing, cannot  be  satisfied  with  the  virtue  of  the  market 
place,  "fair  dealing/7  but  only  with  the  unstinted  service 
which  we  find  in  the  family  when  the  motive  is  love.  And 
such  service  alone,  as  we  have  seen,  is  adequate  to  build 
a  right  social  life.  It  is  no  mistake,  therefore,  when  the 
New  Testament  has  little  to  say  about  justice  and  much 
to  say  about  love,  for  justice  as  a  social  principle  is  in- 
cluded in  and  subordinate  to  the  principle  of  love. 


ESSENTIALS  OF  A  SOCIAL  KELIGION     179 

Even  more  does  the  inadequacy  of  self-interest  as  a 
social  principle  become  evident.  Upon  this  pagan  prin- 
ciple, as  we  have  seen,  our  forefathers  sought  to  build  their 
political  and  economic  life;  and  as  a  result  our  political 
and  economic  structures  are  tumbling  about  us.  The 
question  is  not  one  of  the  legitimacy  of  self-interest;  the 
question  is  one  of  the  adequacy  of  self-interest.  No  one 
would  deny  that  self-interest  is  legitimate  up  to  a  certain 
point;  but  to  allow  self-interest  to  dominate  means  to 
weaken  and  negative  the  social  spirit,  social  unity,  social 
co-operation.  If  it  be  true  that  hitherto  "the  chief  mo- 
tive power  in  the  development  of  civilization  has  been 
intelligent  selfishness,"  then  that  is  one  reason  why  our 
civilization  is  giving  us  so  much  trouble.  For  self-interest 
as  a  dominant  motive  is  bound  to  result  in  social  failure. 
Even  in  the  economic  sphere  it  is  bound  ultimately  to  fail. 
"When  it  dominates,  the  worker  will  cease  to  work,  will 
"curtail  production,"  as  soon  as  his  selfish  interest  is 
satisfied;  the  employer  will  "retire"  when  his  "pile"  is 
made,  unless  he  has  in  the  meantime  acquired  an  over- 
mastering greed.  Our  world  cannot  hope  to  go  forward 
to  a  social  life  that  is  harmonious  and  worth  while  on  such 
a  basis. 

It  is  noteworthy  indeed  that  even  in  the  barbarous 
business  of  war,  while  group  selfishness  is  usually  ap- 
pealed to,  the  appeal  is  rarely  to  the  self-interest  of  the 
individual  soldier,  but  rather  to  the  spirit  of  unselfish, 
patriotic  service.  Now,  peace  has  tasks  which  require 
equal  discipline  and  devotion  to  unselfish  ends  for  their 
successful  completion.  It  is  idle  to  think  that  the  vic- 
tories of  peace  can  be  won  without  the  domination  of  the 
spirit  of  service  and  self-sacrifice.  This  is  the  whole 
secret  of  "morale,"  whether  for  peace-time  or  for  war- 


180     THE  KECONSTEUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

time.  Social  science  finds  self-interest  totally  inadequate 
as  a  social  principle  for  the  construction  of  a  high  and 
stable  civilization.  It  agrees,  then,  with  social  religion 
in  condemning  self-interest  as  a  dominant  motive  and 
assigns  it  only  a  subordinate  position  in  a  properly  de- 
veloped social  life. 

The  unselfish  service  in  the  building  of  a  better  human 
world,  which  social  religion  would  make  the  immediate 
end  of  endeavor  for  both  individuals  and  groups,  how- 
ever, leaves  plenty  of  room  for  all  legitimate  self-interest. 
No  man  can  serve  humanity  unless  he  develops  the  best 
that  is  in  himself.  No  man  can  give  unless  he  has  some- 
thing to  give.  The  highest  possible  self-development  for 
the  sake  of  service  is  plainly  a  corollary  of  the  ideal  of 
service.  But  it  is  self-development  for  the  sake  of  service, 
and  not  self -development  as  an  end  in  itself.  Indeed,  the 
latter  ideal  has  no  meaning,  if  we  accept  the  truth  taught 
by  social  science  that  men  necessarily  live  a  collective  life 
and  achieve  lasting  good  only  through  the  development  of 
this  collective  life.  Self-interest  subordinated  to  com- 
munity interest  and  ultimately  to  the  interest  of  humanity, 
self-development  for  the  sake  of  aiding  the  development 
of  humanity,  is  the  plain  teaching  of  both  social  science 
and  social  religion. 

Nor  does  social  science  find  this  ideal  inculcated  by 
social  religion  at  all  impracticable?  Nature  has  furnished 
man  with  both  egoistic  and  altruistic  impulses.  While  the 
egoistic  impulses  of  the  "natural"  man  are  no  doubt  the 
stronger,  yet  which  impulses  will  predominate  in  the 
character  of  the  mature  adult  is  altogether  a  matter  of 
education.  It  depends  upon  which  are  cultivated  from 
childhood  up.  It  depends,  then,  upon  the  "morale"  of 
the  group  in  which  the  individual  grows  to  maturity. 


ESSENTIALS  OF  A  SOCIAL  KELIGIOIST     181 

Hence,  again,  the  need  of  a  social  religion  wliick  will 
teach  individuals  to  cultivate  a  spirit  of  unselfish  service 
— altruism  rather  than  egoism.  It  must  be  mainly 
through  an  essentially  religious  attitude  that  any  high 
social  morale  is  attained.  For  reasons  which  we  have 
already  fully  explained,  social  religion  is  the  great  aid  to 
a  high  social  morale.  But  when  a  high  morale  is  attained, 
when  the  social  spirit  is  fully  developed,  there  is  no  limit 
to  the  unselfish  service  of  individuals  which  a  group  may 
command.  If  humanitarian  religion,  then,  is  given 
proper  recognition  as  a  means  of  social  control,  there  is 
no  need  of  individual  and  group  selfishness  running  riot 
in  our  human  world. 

In  drawing  this  discussion  of  the  essential  principles 
of  a  completely  social  or  humanitarian  religion  to  a  close, 
it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  point  out  that  the  principles 
which  we  have  found  to  be  essential  are  those  of  the  re- 
ligion of  Jesus.  Service  of  all  men,  even  of  the  least,  in 
material  needs  as  well  as  in  spiritual,  in  little  things  as 
well  as  in  great,  springing  from  love,  or  a  social,  brotherly 
spirit,1  carried,  if  need  be,  to  the  point  of  complete  self- 
sacrifice — such  was  plainly  his  teaching.2  Coupled  with 
this  teaching  was  a  profound  conviction  of  the  alienation 
of  men  from  God,  of  their  sinfulness  and  need  of  social 
and  spiritual  redemption.  It  is  no  mystery,  as  we  have 
pointed  out,  why  Jesus  so  taught.  The  mystery,  if  any, 
is  why  the  world  has  not  accepted  his  teaching.  For  his 

aThe  Greek  agape,  usually  translated  in  the  New  Testament  by 
the  word  "love,"  meant  ethical  love,  or  love  enjoined  as  a  duty,  or 
active  good  will.  See  Thayer's  Greek-English  Lexicon  of  the  New 
Testament. 

3  Professor  Harry  F.  Ward  (The  New  Social  Order,  p.  334)  sum- 
marizes the  fundamental  social  principles  of  Christianity  as  three: 
"the  value  of  personality,  the  necessity  of  brotherhood,  the  law  of 
service." 


182     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

social  principles  are  so  plainly  the  only  ones  by  which 
men  can  satisfactorily  live  together  that  they  might  just 
as  well  forget  the  law  of  gravitation  as  forget  these  prin- 
ciples. When  one  forgets  the  principles  of  gravitation, 
one  must  expect  some  hard  bumps.  So  when  our  human 
world  forgets  these  principles  of  right  living  together,  it 
must  expect  some  hard  lessons — such  as  it  has  been  re- 
ceiving. 

There  is,  however,  of  course  this  significant  difference 
between  the  working  of  the  principle  of  gravitation  and 
these  social  principles — that  the  ignoring  of  the  first  prin- 
ciple entails  immediate  punishment  experienced  by  the 
immediate  individuals  concerned,  while  the  ignoring  of 
the  latter  entails  a  more  or  less  remote  punishment  which 
may  be  experienced  by  quite  other  individuals  than  those 
immediately  concerned.  This,  in  part,  explains  the  psy- 
chological difficulties  of  men  in  learning  and  understand- 
ing social  principles.  But  to  the  eye  of  science  as  well  as  to 
the  eye  of  religion  the  remoteness  of  the  results  makes  no 
difference.  To  both,  the  social  world,  like  the  physical 
world,  is  a  realm  of  law.  Men  reap  what  they  sow  in  a 
social  way,  though  the  men  that  reap  may  not  be  the  same 
as  those  who  sowed. 

Nor  did  Jesus  make  the  mistake  of  teaching  his  social 
principles  as  abstractions.  If  he  had  done  so,  we  could 
understand  more  easily  the  slowness  of  men  in  learning 
them.  For  men  apprehend  more  quickly  the  concrete  and 
give  their  loyalty  more  readily  to  persons  than  to  abstract 
principles.  A  social  religion  which  awakens  the  en- 
thusiasm of  men  must  present  a  vision  of  an  ideal  society 
and  center  about  loyalty  to  a  personal  leader.  Jesus  was 
careful  to  demand  this  personal  loyalty  from  his  followers 
and  to  present  to  them  a  concrete  ideal,  the  Kingdom  of 


ESSENTIALS  OF  A  SOCIAL  KELIGION     183 

God — a  social  order  in  which  God's  will  should  be  done — 
which  was  to  be  the  first  thing  to  be  sought  by  his  disci- 
ples and  the  chief  object  of  their  desire. 

It  has  often  been  said  that  "personality"  is  the  highest 
term  of  religion,  and  that  Christianity  is  "a  religion  of 
personality."  This  is  surely  correct  only  in  a  limited 
sense.  We  find  Jesus  saying  little  concerning  individual 
personality,  but  much  concerning  his  ideal  society.  While 
he  regarded  each  human  soul  as  of  infinite  worth,  yet  it 
was  of  worth  because  it  was  part  of  an  ideal  society,  a 
part  of  a  spiritual  kingdom,  which  was  to  come  fully 
only  when  the  world  was  redeemed  and  God's  will  was 
done  upon  the  earth.  An  ideal  human  world  was  to  him 
the  goal  of  religion.1 

It  would  be  quite  as  correct,  then,  to  say  that  the 
highest  term  of  religion  is  "humanity,"  and  that  Chris- 
tianity is  "a  religion  of  humanity."  Only  if  such  is  the 
fact  can  Christianity  be  in  accord  with  social  science. 
For  social  science  discovers  that  it  is  the  Great  Com- 
munity of  humanity  to  which  men  have  to  adjust  them- 
selves, and  by  which  all  their  values  must  finally  be  tested. 
A  social  religion  accordingly  must  make  humanity  its 
highest  category  on  the  human  side  and  the  supreme  ob- 
ject of  loyalty.  And  this  is  loyalty  to  no  abstraction.  It 
is  loyalty  to  the  living  human  world,  as  the  object  of 
redemption.  It  is  loyalty  to  all  in  religion,  science,  art, 
industry,  government,  or  education  which  works  toward 
that  redemption.  It  is  loyalty  to  the  best  that  men  have 
realized  or  aspired  to  anywhere.  It  is  loyalty  to  that  ideal 
human  world  which  is  to  be. 

This  is  surely  not  far  from  the  thought  of  Jesus.  When 
he  asks  loyalty  to  himself  and  to  God  it  is  surely  for  the 
sake  of  the  redemption  of  mankind.  When  he  demands 

1  See  Chapter  III  and  the  various  references  there  cited,  also  the 
foot-note  on  the  next  page. 


184     THE  KECOSTSTKUCTKW  OF  KELIGION 

that  loving  service  be  rendered  to  the  least  of  men  as  unto 
God,  it  is  surely  for  the  sake  of  the  redemption  of  all  men. 
When  he  commands  his  followers  to  seek  first  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  Kingdom  of  God,  this  is  clearly  his 
thought.  For  this  phrase,  at  one  time  perverted  by  theo- 
logians to  a  supermundane  or  even  ecclesiastical  mean- 
ing, has  been  shown  by  modern  scholarship  on  the  whole 
to  have  reference  to  a  social  order  upon  this  earth  * — an 
order,  however,  not  of  mere  brotherhood — for  brothers 
may  be  co-conspirators  in  crime — but  one  in  which  God 
is  acknowledged  as  father  and  his  will  is  realized  through 
the  loving  obedience  of  men  to  all  his  laws,  especially  to 
the  laws  of  mutual  love,  mutual  service,  and  mutual  self- 
sacrifice  for  the  sake  of  human  service.  This  is  the 

1  No  social  order  that  is  merely  external,  of  course,  is  meant,  but 
one  which  is  an  expression  of  an  inner  life  in  harmony  with  God's 
will.  A  purely  subjective  individualistic  interpretation  of  this  phrase, 
however,  is  scarcely  warranted  by  its  historical  setting  (its  back- 
ground being  the  expected  Messianic  kingdom  of  Judaism).  More 
difficult  to  deal  with  is  the  extreme  apocalyptic  interpretation  of  this 
phrase  (by  Schweitzer  and  others).  Regarding  this  interpretation, 
Professor  Fitch  justly  says  (in  Christian  Century,  March  17,  1921)  : 
"All  these  considerations  regarding  the  way  of  the  appearance  and 
actual  organization  of  the  kingdom  are  relatively  beside  the  point. 
Whatever  may  have  been  the  historical  truth  or  falsity  of  Jesus' 
notion  of  the  nature,  the  time,  the  method  of  the  coming  of  the 
kingdom,  the  deeper  question  is  what  was  his  notion  of  man  which 
underlay  it?  ...  As  one  reads  the  synoptists,  there  cannot  be  much 
doubt  that  Jesus,  in  his  few  months  of  public  utterance,  proclaimed 
some  kind  of  a  social  gospel.  It  is  true  that  he  was  primarily  con- 
cerned with  individuals  rather  than  organizations,  but  equally  true 
that  he  selected  and  trained  these  individuals  as  a  sort  of  charter 
members  for  a  society  soon  to  be.  It  is  true  that  it  was  thus  the 
spiritual  redemption  of  men  and  women,  not  the  improvement  of 
existing  institutions,  for  which  he  labored.  But  that  was  because  he 
regarded  those  present  institutions  as  essentially  hopeless  and  about 
to  perish,  not  because  he  did  not  have  the  vision  of  a  better  and 
perfected  state.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  did  live  for  a  new  and  purged 
society.  So  while  by  the  very  nature  of  his  genius  he  was  not  so 
much  a  reformer  as  a  revealer,  not  an  agitator  with  a  plan,  but  an 
idealist  with  a  vision,  nevertheless  it  was  a  social  vision  and  a  group 
salvation  which  he  foresaw."  For  a  bibliography  on  this  controversy, 
see  Hastings,  Encyclopedia  of  Religion  and  Ethics. 


ESSENTIALS  OF  A  SOCIAL  RELIGION     185 

Utopia  of  Jesus — his  vision  of  a  perfect  human  society, 
on  which  he  bade  his  followers  fix  their  gaze,  and  to  the 
realization  of  which  they  should  consecrate  their  lives. 
And  to  be  vital  social  religion  must  have  such  a  concrete 
social  ideal. 

But  this  social  ideal  of  Jesus  is  not  a  cut  and  dried 
formula  for  a  fixed  social  order — for  a  static  human 
world.  It  is  rather  a  mere  outline,  based  upon  funda- 
mental social  principles,  to  be  filled  in  by  the  intelligence 
according  to  the  human  needs  brought  about  by  special 
situations.  And  in  this  it  accords  with  the  requirements 
of  social  science.  It  makes  the  work  of  social  science,  in 
order  to  fill  in  details  and  to  determine  methods  and 
standards  in  special  instances,  not  an  adventitious  and 
external  aid  to  social  religion,  but  rather  an  indispensable, 
vital  part.  To  ascertain  by  careful  investigation  the  needs 
of  men  in  their  economic,  political,  and  intimate  social 
life  thus  becomes  a  necessity  of  religion.  For  such  in- 
vestigation must  furnish  to  social  religion  guidance  in  all 
the  special  problems  of  human  life  and  alone  can  render 
religious  values  concrete  and  vital.  Obviously,  a  social 
religion  must  concern  itself  with  ends  rather  than  means, 
and  the  evaluation  of  the  latter  must  be  left  to  science. 
Obviously,  too,  a  social  end  or  ideal  should  be  elastic 
enough  to  leave  room  for  definite  knowledge  to  fill  in  the 
details.  It  should  be  a  vision  of  vitalizing  principles 
rather  than  of  a  definite  organization;  and  such  was 
Jesus'  vision  of  the  kingdom  of  God. 

Just  what  social  science  indicates  of  the  specific  organi- 
zation needed  in  our  day  in  the  family,  in  industry,  and 
in  political  life  to  realize  the  Christian  ideal,  we  shall 
consider  in  the  immediately  following  chapters;  but  one 


186     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

constant  implication  of  our  argument  remains  to  be  ren- 
dered explicit.  And  that  is,  that  the  perfect  human  society 
which  social  religion  aims  to  create  must  necessarily  be 
a  world-wide  society.  The  events  of  our  day  show  clearly 
enough  that  no  particularistic  society,  confined  to  one 
people,  country,  or  race,  can  live  and  perfect  its  own  life 
by  itself  on  our  globe.  The  very  idea  is  self -contradictory 
and  facts  make  it  impossible.  Any  ideal  social  order  that 
is  to  endure  must  be  developed  on  a  world-wide  scale. 
It  follows  that  a  social  religion  must  be  a  missionary  re- 
ligion, carrying  enlightened  social  values,  social  patterns, 
civilization  as  fully  as  it  has  developed,  to  all  peoples. 
It  was  no  accident,  therefore,  that  Jesus,  if  his  religion 
was  truly  social  and  humanitarian,  as  we  have  argued, 
commanded  his  followers  to  go  and  make  disciples  of  all 
nations.1  Neither  is  it  an  accident  that  historical  Chris- 
tianity at  its  best  has  always  been  a  missionary  religion. 
Whatever  may  have  been  the  mistakes  of  Christian  mis- 
sions in  the  past,  as  long  as  the  condition  of  the  world 
remains  as  it  is — with  races  and  peoples  alienated  and 
misunderstanding  each  other — a  positive  social  religion 
must  continue  to  exalt  missionary  effort;  for  its  ultimate 
objective  must  be  a  redeemed  world,  and  this  cannot  be 
obtained  without  the  teaching  of  social  and  religious  truth 
to  all  peoples  and  the  illustration  of  that  truth  by  personal 
service  and  sacrifice.  Social  religion  with  its  passion  for 
the  redemption  of  mankind  would  suffuse  the  whole  re- 
ligious life  accordingly  with  a  missionary  spirit ;  and  this, 
too,  would  be  the  spirit  of  Jesus. 

Social  religion  would,  in  a  word,  make  it  the  conscious 
end  of  all  men's  lives  to  have  a  share  with  God  in  the 

1  While  many  critics  regard  this  command  in  the  first  gospel  with 
its  variant  in  the  second  as  interpolations,  yet  they  must  have  been 
a  part  of  the  early  Christian  tradition  and  would  seem  to  go  back  to 
some  probable  sayings  of  Jesus. 


ESSENTIALS  OF  A  SOCIAL  RELIGION     187 

building  of  a  world.  Not  personal  pleasure  or  power,  not 
mere  self-development  or  self-culture,  but  the  creation  of 
an  ideal  buman  world  would  thus  become,  if  it  were 
accepted,  the  controlling  aim  of  all  men's  endeavor.1 

i Compare  the  statement  of  Professor  Hocking  (Human  Nature  and 
Its  Remaking,  p.  425)  :  "The  destiny  of  the  human  will  is  to  co- 
operate, in  some  degree  of  present  awareness  with  the  central  power 
of  the  world ;  and  so  far  to  perceive  in  present  experience  the  quality 
of  'union  with  God.'  In  their  complete  meaning  our  human 
actions  .  .  .  are  creative  in  an  actual,  but  unfinished  world." 


CHAPTEE  VII 

RELIGION   AND  FAMILY  LIFE 

A  RELIGION  adapted  to  the  needs  of  modern  life  must 
have  a  positive  and  unequivocal  doctrine  concerning  the 
family.  If  the  first  business  of  religion  is  the  production 
of  men,  then  its  first  concrete  social  task  must  be  the  con- 
struction of  a  family  life  which  is  capable  of  producing 
fully  socialized  individuals.  Just  as  the  primitive  Chris- 
tian church  found  in  its  attempt  to  reconstruct  its  world 
that  its  first  task  was  to  create  a  stable,  moral  family  life, 
so  social  religion  to-day  in  reconstructing  our  world  must 
begin  with  this  primary  group.  As  the  reasons  for  this 
are  not  always  appreciated  by  the  social  and  religious 
thinkers  of  our  time,  let  us  see  briefly  what  they  are. 

Professor  Charles  Horton  Cooley's  doctrine  of  the  func- 
tion of  primary  groups  in  human  society  *  is  almost  as 
important  in  modern  social  science  as  Darwin's  doctrine 
of  evolution  by  natural  selection  in  modern  biology.  Pro- 
fessor Cooley  shows  beyond  a  doubt  that  what  he  calls 
"primary  groups"  are  the  primary  builders  of  human 
social  life.  By  primary  groups  he  says  he  means  the 
simple  face-to-face  groups  which  are  characterized  by  in- 
timate, personal  relations,  such  as  especially  the  family 
and  neighborhood.  These  groups  are  primary,  he  shows, 
not  simply  because  they  are  primitive  and  universal  forms 
of  human  association,  but  because  they  are  the  primary 

1  Social  Organization,  Chapters  III-V. 

188 


RELIGION  AND  FAMILY  LIFE  189 

builders  and  bearers  of  the  social  values  of  men  every- 
where and  in  all  ages.  They  are  this,  first  of  all,  because 
they  are  the  primary  socializing  agencies.  They  first 
stimulate  and  call  forth  the  expressions  of  the  social  in- 
stincts; they  first  build  up  habits  of  co-operation;  they 
first  give  rise  to  social  consciousness.  It  is  in  the  family 
in  particular  that  the  individual  first  learns  what  social 
life  means,  gets  his  earliest  development  of  social  im- 
pulses and  habits,  and  first  learns  to  say  "we."  More- 
over, in  all  stages  of  social  evolution  since  human  life 
began,  these  primary  groups  have  been  the  bearers  of  all 
social  traditions.  In  them  the  child  learns  the  first  lan- 
guage and  with  his  language  he  gets  his  whole  social  in- 
heritance in  a  spiritual  way.  He  receives  especially  from 
his  family  his  ideas,  beliefs,  and  standards  concerning  in- 
dustry, government,  law,  art,  morals  and  religion.  In 
brief,  he  receives  from  the  family  life  practically  every- 
thing which  makes  him  a  man  as  distinct  from  a  brute; 
for  human  culture,  or  civilization,  as  we  have  already 
seen  is  a  complex  built  up  of  acquired  habits  and  these 
habits  are  intermediated  and  controlled  by  a  mass  of  ideas, 
beliefs,  and  standards,  which  make  up  social  tradition. 
Inasmuch  as  the  primary  groups  are  the  chief  carriers  of 
this  social  tradition,  they  are  also  the  chief  carriers  of 
culture  or  civilization.  They  are  usually  carriers,  more- 
over, of  the  appropriate  customs  which  express  the  various 
traditions,  and  hence  they  impart  the  social  tradition  to 
the  child,  not  in  an  abstract,  intellectual istic  way,  but  as 
part  of  a  living,  organic  whole,  oftentimes  with  social 
compulsion  as  well  as  with  social  illustration. 

The  consequence  is  that  the  child  gets  his  main  social 
education — his  fundamental  social  attitudes  and  values — 
in  the  primary  groups.  Primary  groups  must  accord- 
ingly be  regarded  as  the  most  important  educative  agencies 


190     THE  RECOKSTKUCTION  OF  EELIGIOtf 

of  human  society,  so  far  as  the  social  character  of  indi- 
viduals is  concerned.  This  they  must  doubtless  continue 
to  be,  for  they  must  always  furnish  the  immediate  social 
environment  of  individuals,  and  it  is  this  environment 
which  is  more  largely  responsible  for  the  social  character 
of  individuals  than  all  other  factors  combined.  This  is 
especially  true  of  the  family;  for  it  furnishes  the  im- 
mediate environment  of  the  child  during  its  most  tender 
and  plastic  years.  It  is,  moreover,  the  natural  environ- 
ment to  which  the  race  has  become  adjusted  through  thou- 
sands of  generations  and  to  which  all  the  child's  instincts 
and  capacities  are  adapted  and  most  readily  respond.  In 
a  word,  science  finds  that  the  family  is  the  normal  en- 
vironment of  the  child  and  that  there  is  no  adequate  sub- 
stitute for  a  good  home. 

If  the  first  concern  of  religion  is  the  production  of  men, 
then  social  religion  would  be  supremely  interested  in  the 
family,  even  if  there  were  no  deeper  reason  than  its 
moulding  of  character  in  the  young.  But  there  is  a  deeper 
reason;  and  that  is  that  the  family  life  is  the  original 
fount  in  society  of  altruism,  of  love,  which  becomes  the 
main  content,  as  we  have  seen,  of  ethical  religion.  It  is 
in  the  family  that  the  child  develops  his  altruistic  in- 
stincts, learns  what  love  means,  and,  if  the  family  is 
normal,  acquires  habits  of  service  and  self-sacrifice. 
Family  affection,  in  other  words,  is  the  natural  root  of 
altruism  in  society  at  large.  The  amount  of  altruism  in 
society,  therefore,  has  a  close  relation  to  the  quality  of  its 
family  life.1  But  upon  altruism  depends  largely  both 
social  order  and  social  progress.  We  cannot  maximize 

1  For  elaboration,  consult  the  author's  text,  Sociology  and  Modern 
Social  Problems,  1919  Edition,  Chapters  1V-VI1I,  and  the  references 
there  cited. 


KELIGION  AND  FAMILY  LIFE  191 

co-operation  among  men  unless  we  can  increase  their  good 
will  as  well  as  their  intelligence.  Hence  religion's  in- 
terest in  the  family  must  be  proportionate  to  its  interest 
in  altruism  or  good  will.  Family  affection  is  the  indis- 
pensable root  of  social  religion  as  well  as  of  altruism. 

The  close  connection  between  the  family  life  and  re- 
ligion among  practically  all  peoples  is,  therefore,  not  an 
accident.  Both  are  concerned  with  the  socialization  of  the 
individual,  that  is,  with  overcoming  his  natural  egoism. 
While  the  family  as  a  purely  natural  group  does  this  in 
a  very  limited  way,  and  while  social  religion  attempts 
to  do  it  in  a  universal  way,  this  should  not  obscure  the 
fact  that  the  very  values  with  which  social  religion  works 
have  their  origin  in  the  natural  affections  developed  by 
the  family.  If  these  values  will  not  work  in  the  family 
life,  they  surely  will  not  work  in  society  at  large.  It  is 
useless  to  teach  universal  love  and  good  will  and  the 
maximization  of  co-operation  if  these  cannot  be  realized 
in  the  face-to-face  group  which  gave  them  birth.  The 
interest  of  social  religion  in  the  family  is  not  an  interest 
in  some  remote  source  of  its  ideals,  but  rather  in  it  as  a 
living  generator  of  altruism  even  though  still  for  the  most 
part  to  be  perfected. 

However,  that  the  family  was  the  original  source  of  the 
chief  social  values  which  religion  exalts  is  a  fact  of  the 
greatest  social  and  religious  significance.  Social  religion 
obtained  its  very  concepts,  its  "patterns,"  from  the  family 
life.  It  is  the  great  merit  of  Professor  Cooley's  doctrine 
of  primary  groups  that  it  has  revealed  clearly  to  us  the 
original  sources  of  our  social  ideals.  Professor  Cooley 
has  shown  that  the  pattern  ideas  for  all  essential  human 
relationships  come  from  the  experiences  and  satisfactions 
of  primary  groups.  It  is  especially  the  family  which  by 
its  very  structure  and  relationships  has  furnished  the 


192     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

main  moral  patterns  for  society  at  large.1  Such  ideals  as 
love,  service,  self-sacrifice  for  the  sake  of  service,  brother- 
hood, motherhood,  fatherhood,  obviously  have  been  derived 
from  experiences  in  the  family.  Civilization  has  taken 
these  patterns  and  attempted  to  make  them  work  also  in 
the  larger  groups  of  men.  From  one  point  of  view  all 
human  history  has  been  a  struggle  to  transfer  the  altruism 
and  solidarity  of  the  family  when  at  its  best  to  suc- 
cessively larger  and  larger  groups  of  men.  The  ideal  of 
social  unity,  as  Professor  Cooley  remarks,  has  been  the 
mother  of  all  social  ideals;  and  social  unity  was  first 
realized  in  the  family. 

In  brief,  the  family  life  has  always  been  social  life 
at  its  maximum.  In  it  human  association  has  been,  and 
always  will  be,  at  its  maximum  intensity.  In  it  are  gen- 
erated both  the  forces  which  make  for  good  and  those 
which  make  for  evil  in  our  social  life.  Controlling  as  it 
does  both  the  birth  and  rearing  of  children,  it  necessarily 
has  the  chief  part  in  socializing  the  child  and  in  giving 
him  his  social  traditions,  standards  and  ideals.  In  fact, 
the  family  not  only  reproduces  the  race,  but  it  reproduces 
human  society  and  human  culture.  Within  it  are  con- 
tinually renewed  not  only  life  itself,  but  the  very  ideals 
and  values  by  which  men  live  a  human  life.  It  is  the 
perpetual  fountain  of  youth  for  the  idealism  of  the  race. 
Idealistic  social  religion  especially  gets  from  the  family 
the  ideals,  the  very  goals,  which  it  sets  before  men  to 
realize  in  their  relations  at  large.  That  there  is  an  up- 
ward urge  in  the  family  life  when  normal  is  evidenced, 
therefore,  by  the  fart,  that  it  has  furnished  the  main  pat- 
terns for  civilization  and  for  religion. 

Thus  the  family  has  been  truly  the  cradle  of  civilization. 

1  See  p.  207. 


KELIGION  AND  FAMILY  LIFE  193 

It  has  furnished  the  very  ideals  which  men  have  striven 
to  realize  in  their  wider  social  life.  Religion  has  found 
in  it  the  values  which  it  seeks  to  universalize.  This  is 
true,  especially,  in  the  case  of  hoth  Judaism  and  Chris- 
tianity. /Judaism,  as  we  have  seen,  got  its  lofty  moral 
tone  froril  the  projection,  idealization,  and  spiritualizatioii 
of  the  values  found  in  the  ancient  Jewish  family.  The 
concepts  and  phraseology  of  Judaism  can,  indeed,  bo 
understood  only  through  understanding  the  ancient  Jew- 
ish family.  Christianity  only  carried  the  process  a  step 
further,  universalizing  such  concepts  as  fatherhood  and 
brotherhood,  and  such  ideals  as  love,  service,  and  sacrifice. 
Historically  and  psychologically  the  intimate  relations 
between  the  family  and  ethical  religion  are,  therefore, 
necessary  and  inevitable.  Destroy  one  and  sooner  or  later 
you  will  have  destroyed  the  other. 

It  follows  that  a  normal  family  life  for  all  men  must 
be  a  prime  object  of  a  scientific  social  religion.  Yet  what 
is  the  condition  of  our  family  life?  Nowhere  have  the 
pagan  and  destructive  forces  of  our  civilization  had  a 
more  disastrous  effect.1  Marriage  and  the  family  have 
tended  more  and  more  in  certain  classes  to  become  mere 
matters  of  individual  convenience.  Taught  by  the  modern 
romantic  novel,  the  modern  sex  drama,  and  the  modern 
newspaper,  young  people  have  come  more  and  more  to 
regard  family  life  as  something  for  personal  gratification 
and  for  personal  pleasure.  Self-gratification  rather  than 
social  conservation  has  been  made  the  end  of  the  family 
life.  Nothing  could  illustrate  the  essential  paganism  of 
our  civilization  more  clearly  than  the  widespread  preva- 
lence of  this  attitude  toward  the  family.  Our  "mores" 
with  reference  to  marriage  and  the  family  are  individual- 

1  See  also  the  statements  in  Chapters  I  and  IV. 


194     THE  BECONSTEITOTION  OF  KELIGION 

istic,  they  are  not  socialized.     They  are  not  even  demo- 
cratic; they  are  rather  anarchistic. 

The  attempt  to  build  our  family  life  upon  a  basis  of 
self-interest  and  personal  happiness — that  is  to  say,  upon 
selfishness — has,  of  course,  been  a  failure.  In  the  coun- 
tries where  divorce  is  free,  as  in  the  United  States,  the 
number  of  divorces  grows  by  leaps  and  bounds,  until  un- 
stable families  threaten  at  no  distant  date  to  predominate. 
In  1916  there  were  112,036  divorces  granted  in  the 
United  States,  but  the  homes  whose  bonds  were  practically 
dissolved  and  whose  life  disintegrated  by  our  pagan  mores 
in  the  family  must  have  been  nearly  as  many  more.  In 
some  cities  and  states  there  is  already  one  divorce  to  every 
two  marriages.  In  1916,  it  is  reliably  estimated,  there 
were  more  than  150,000  children  involved  in  these  di- 
vorces; and  as  every  child  needs  a  good  home  and  two 
parents,  the  social  welfare  of  many  children  must  have 
suffered.  Yet  some  wonder  at  the  increase  of  juvenile 
delinquency  and  adolescent  crime  among  us! 

Not  convinced  by  facts  like  these  that  personal  hap- 
piness is  an  inadequate  basis  for  the  family,  we  have  those 
in  plenty  who  would  definitely  abandon  the  standard  of 
permanency  in  family  relationships  and  permit  divorce 
to  become  a  private  act  brought  about  at  any  time  by 
mutual  consent.  Thus  the  ideal  of  permanent  monogamy 
itself  appears  endangered  by  our  individualism. 

Scientific  social  religion  must  meet  an  issue  like  this. 
It  cannot  dodge  it.  While  the  family  is  not  an  end  in 
itself,  any  more  than  any  other  social  group,  yet  it  is,  as 
we  have  seen,  indispensable  to  humanity.  If  social  re- 
ligion is  to  teach  the  service  of  mankind,  and  the  full 
consecration  of  individual  life  to  that  service,  then  it  must 
condemn  unequivocally  selfish  standards  of  happiness  in 


RELIGION  AND  FAMILY  LIFE  195 

the  family.  It  must  ask  that  the  larger  life  of  humanity 
be  not  impeded  in  its  flow  through  this  institution,  and 
that  the  family  life  be  such  as  to  contribute  to  that  larger 
life.  It  must,  in  a  word,  demand  that  the  family  life 
become  fully  socialized.  To  this  end  it  must  seek  (1)  the 
subordination  of  material  conditions  to  the  social  and 
spiritual  values  of  the  family;  (2)  the  subjection  of  the 
animal  nature  of  man  to  the  service  of  mankind  through 
family  relations;  (3)  the  basing  of  the  family  life  itself 
upon  some  specific  form  of  unselfish  service  which  is 
peculiarly  its  own. 

(1)  The  present  instability  and  demoralization  of  OUTJ 
family  life  is  undoubtedly  rooted  in  the  relation  of  that 
life  to  material  conditions.  We  have  allowed  material 
conditions  to  dominate  the  family.  Business  and  indus- 
try, formerly  developed  as  adjuncts  to  the  family,  have 
now  become  more  important  in  the  eyes  of  many  than  the 
family  life  itself.  Not  only  do  private  employers  and 
industrial  corporations  put  interests  of  their  business 
ahead  of  the  domestic  interests  of  their  employees,  but 
even  families  themselves  in  many  cases  regard  their  busi- 
ness life  as  much  more  important  than  their  home  life. 
Business  and  industry,  in  other  words,  have  come  to  be 
dominating  interests  which  do  not  recognize  their  reason- 
able and  socially  necessary  subordination  to  the  family 
for  the  sake  of  the  higher  interests  of  society.  The  re- 
quirements of  the  family  for  the  good  birth  and  proper 
rearing  of  children  are  sacrificed  for  the  sake  of  business 
or  industry.  Thoughtless  employers  with  self-interest 
standards  in  their  business  rarely  inquire  into  the  home 
life  of  their  employees.  Indeed,  the  wages  which  they 
pay  to  their  male  workers  are  often  quite  insufficient  for 
the  worker  to  maintain  a  home  and  rear  a  family,  and 
even  in  some  cases  tend  to  become  merely  the  wages  of 


196      THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

single  men.  The  heartlessness  of  modern  business,  and 
particularly  of  some  industrial  corporations,  in  employing 
men,  women,  and  children  under  such  conditions  and  for 
such  hours  and  wages  as  tend  to  destroy  their  home  life 
is  one  of  the  blackest  stains  upon  modern  civilization. 
Social  religion  must  recognize  this,  and  must  insist  that 
industrial  and  business  considerations  shall  be  subordi- 
nated to  the  considerations  of  the  welfare  of  parents  and 
children  in  the  family  group.  The  labor  of  immature 
children  outside  of  the  family,  whether  upon  the  street, 
in  factories,  in  shops,  or  in  stores,  under  such  conditions 
as  impede  their  physical,  mental,  and  moral  development, 
must  especially  be  fought  by  social  religion  as  an  unmiti- 
gated evil.  The  drafting  of  children  of  school  age  into 
industry  is  perhaps  as  clear  an  example  as  we  have  of  the 
materialism  and  paganism  of  our  civilization.  Yet  mil- 
lions of  children  in  Christian  nations  who  should  be  in 
school  are  thus  drafted  and  made  parts  of  the  industrial 
machine. 

The  labor  of  women  also  outside  of  the  home  if  not 
carefully  safeguarded  may  easily  become  subversive  of  the 
higher  values  of  the  family.  If  they  are  permitted  to 
labor  under  such  conditions  that  normal  home  life  be- 
comes practically  impossible,  then  again  the  family  is  sac- 
rificed to  material  considerations.  Their  hours  of  labor, 
their  conditions  of  labor,  and  the  kind  of  labor  which 
they  are  permitted  to  do  should  all  be  regulated  by  the 
consideration  of  the  requirements  for  a  normal  home  life. 
Even  in  the  case  of  young  unmarried  women,  this  should 
be  so;  for  while  they  may  have  no  specific  home  duties, 
yet  their  life  should  not  be  such  as  to  unfit  them  for  the 
home  and  the  family. 

In  all  cases  it  must  be  insisted  that  the  duties  of  the 
home  are  paramount  to  those  of  business.  Adequate 


KELIGION  AND  FAMILY  LIFE  197 

wages,  reasonable  hours,  wholesome  conditions  of  work 
in  industry  are  not  so  much  the  demands  of  the  self-; 
interest  of  the  workers,  as  of  the  socialized  conscience 
of  all  men  who  see  human  values  in  their  right  rela- 
tions; for,  in  a  word,  they  mean  that  our  business  and 
industrial  life  should  be  organized  about  our  family  life 
rather  than  our  family  life  about  our  business  and  in- 
dustry. 

Social  religion  should  create  a  public  conscience  in 
every  community  that  will  demand  that  not  only  industry 
but  all  other  material  conditions  should  be  such  as  to  favor 
the  upbuilding  of  family  life.  Scarcely  less  important 
than  the  relations  of  the  family  to  industry  are,  for 
example,  housing  conditions  and  sanitary  conditions.  Our 
cities  too  frequently  have  not  been  built  for  homes,  but 
for  financial  returns.  In  their  poorer  quarters  families 
have  been  crowded  together  under  such  conditions  that 
their  children  have  had  practically  no  chance,  condemned, 
in  effect,  by  their  environment  to  lives  of  misery,  vice,  or 
crime.  Social  religion  will  seek  to  correct  all  this,  not 
by  rescuing  a  few  individuals,  but  by  preventing  such 
conditions  by  providing  model  dwellings,  building  "garden 
cities,"  and  so  far  as  practicable  making  possible  the 
ownership  of  individual  homes  by  families  of  all  classes. 
These  material  things  and  all  others  which  social  science 
finds  to  be  necessary  or  desirable  for  normal  family  life, 
must  become  the  vital  concern  of  a  social  religion  which 
seeks  to  create  men  through  the  instrumentality  of  the 
family. 

(2)  Equally  important  is  the  subjection  of  the  animal 
nature  of  man  to  the  requirements  of  a  normal  family  life 
for  the  sake  of  the  higher  interests  of  society.  Men  and 
women  who  suffer  from  the  encroachments  of  business  and 


198     THE  KECO^STKUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

industry  upon  their  family  life  usually  readily  admit  tha 
the  family  should  be  put  ahead  of  such  material  inter- 
ests. But  these  same  men  and  women  sometimes  fail  to 
see  that  their  own  animal  impulses  should  also  be  subordi- 
nated to  the  requirements  of  the  family.  Sex  and  sex  life 
are  made  so  much  of  in  our  literature  and  on  our  stage 
that  the  gratification  of  sex  impulses  looms  in  many  minds, 
if  not  as  the  chief  value,  at  least  as  the  most  imperious 
need  of  life.  Yet  to  all  who  have  not  been  swept  off  their 
feet  by  pagan  individualism,  and  its  resulting  animalism, 
this  appears  as  one  of  the  most  stupid  blunders  which 
sociological  ignorance  permits  to  exist.  While  the  family 
is  founded  on  the  biological  fact  of  sex,  its  main  function 
is  not  the  gratification  of  sex  impulses.  That  is  a  short- 
sighted illusion  indulged  in  only  by  those  who  are  desti- 
tute of  social  understanding.  Social  science  finds  that 
the  chief  function  of  the  family,  as  we  have  already  said, 
is  to  reproduce  both  human  life  and  human  society  with 
all  its  values.  Sex  is  the  indispensable  means  for  the 
performance  of  this  function;  but  as  soon  as  we  make  it 
the  end,  we  revert  to  a  life  which  is  lower  even  than  that 
of  the  brutes. 

Unscientific  ethical  religion  has  long  seen  this,  and  for 
ages  has  attempted  the  control  of  sex  impulses.  But  too 
often  it  has  adopted  a  merely  negative  and  repressive 
policy  toward  the  sex  element.1  A  scientific  social  re- 
ligion, while  aiming  not  less  at  control  of  this  element, 
will  adopt  a  positive  and  constructive  attitude  toward  it. 
This  is  the  more  easy,  because  science  finds  this  element 
to  be  the  very  organic  foundation,  not  simply  of  the 

1  Christianity  has  often  been  accused  of  taking  this  attitude,  and  it 
certainly  has  often  been  the  attitude  of  certain  branches  of  the 
Christian  church.  Even  Carpenter,  however,  who  repeats  the  charge, 
is  forced  to  admit  (Pagan  and  Christian  Creeds,  p.  180)  that  there 
is  nothing  to  ghow  that  Jesus  himself  adopted  any  such  attitude. 


KELIGION  AKD  FAMILY  LIFE  199 

family,  but  of  social  life  itself,  and  hence  of  all  the  higher 
spiritual  life  of  man.  It  has  been  a  favorite  theory  of 
certain  writers  in  the  psychology  of  religion  that  most  of 
the  phenomena  of  religion  spring  from  sex  and  sex  im- 
pulses. Science  finds  at  least  this  much  truth  in  such 
theories,  namely,  that  sexual  reproduction  is  undoubtedly 
the  chief  organic  basis  of  the  social  process  and  its  re- 
sulting co-operation  and  altruism.  However,  it  is  not 
mere  sex,  but  rather  parental  care,1  which  is  the  founda- 
tion of  intimate  social  life  and  of  altruism.  From  this 
root,  too,  springs,  as  we  have  already  seen,  the  social 
phases  of  religion. 

Nature  has  used  sex,  in  a  word,  as  a  chief  means  for 
the  higher  evolution  of  life.  Surely  human  intelligence 
also  can  make  sex  to  serve  the  higher  interests  of  the  race. 
Science  shows  clearly  enough  how  this  can  be  done.  It 
is  by  controlling  sex  impulses  in  the  interest  of  a  sane 
and  wholesome  family  life.  As  long  as  repressive  con- 
trol was  regarded  as  an  end  in  itself,  it  was  impossible 
for  religion  to  take  a  constructive  attitude  toward  sex. 
But  as  soon  as  such  control  is  seen  to  be  for  the  sake  of 
the  family  and  for  the  service  of  humanity  through  the 
family,  then  controlled  sex  impulses  are  welcomed  as  a 
basis  of  family  affection,  and  the  social  religious  ideal 
becomes,  not  celibacy,  but  a  pure  and  lasting  family  life. 
Chastity  for  both  the  married  and  the  unmarried  takes 
on  a  new  meaning — a  social  meaning — and  it  is  seen  to 
be  preeminently  the  virtue  by  which  men  and  women  can 
live  together  on  a  human  plane,  and  it  is  honored  as  such. 
As  a  necessary  social  virtue  it  is  held  to  apply  to  both 
men  and  women  equally.  The  whole  social  life  is  purified 

1  See  Sociology  and  Modern  Social  Problems,  1919  Edition,  p.  95; 
also  Introduction  to  Social  Psychology,  p.  37.  See  p.  204  of  this 
chapter. 


200     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

and  ennobled,  because  sex  is  subordinated  to  the  family, 
and  not  family  life  to  sex.  In  a  word,  sex  is  made  to 
serve  the  higher  values  of  the  social  life  instead  of  being 
merely  repressed.  Thus  social  religion  as  well  as  social 
science  will  find  in  sex  a  potential  basis  for  the  highest 
social  values. 

Such  control  of  sex  impulses  in  the  interest  of  the 
family  will  mean  their  control  in  the  interest  of  the  child 
and  the  race.  Modern  biology  has  shown  the  extreme  im- 
portance of  heredity  to  man ;  and  obviously  the  control  of 
heredity  must  come  through  the  control  of  sex  relations. 
The  modern  science  of  eugenics;  is  as  far  from  endorsing 
promiscuity  in  sex  relations^as  ethical  religion  itself. 
Lax  standards  of  sex  morality  would  make  impossible  the 
realization  of  eugenic  ideals.  Eugenics  demands  that  we 
control  marriage  in  the  interests  of  the  race,  but  this  in 
turn  implies  the  control  of  all  sex  relations.  If  eugenics 
is  ever  to  become  practical,  it  can  be  only  through  the 
development  of  much  higher  standards  of  sex  morality 
than  we  have  yet  attained.  Eor  it  implies  the  triple 
control  of  sex  m  the  interest  of  the  family,  the  child,  and 
the  race,  though  upon  rational  analysis  these  are  seen  all 
to  mean  the  same  thing.  It  implies  that  marriages  shall 
be  based  upon  the  good  health,  good  character,  and  the 
intelligence  of  the  two  stocks  concerned.  It  implies  that 
families  that  have  these  socially  valuable  qualities  as 
hereditary  endowments  and  have  in  addition  a  normal  en- 
vironment should  feel  a  social  obligation  to  produce  more 
than  their  proportion  of  children.  It  implies  negatively 
that  those  who  are  not  normal  in  their  hereditary  endow- 
ments should  refrain  from  marriage,  and  that  those  who 
for  any  reason  do  not  marry  should  lead  lives  of  conti- 
nence. Finally,  eugenics  implies  that  all  who  are  so  ab- 


KELIGION  AND  FAMILY  LIFE  201 

normal  that  they  cannot  be  controlled  by  the  moral  stand- 
ards of  society  should  be  segregated  in  institutions  and 
supported  at  public  expense. 

It  is  a  counsel  of  perfection  which  modern  science  has 
given  us  in  the  doctrines  of  eugenics;  but  like  all  such 
counsels  it  is  socially  valuable  and  is  obviously  closely 
allied  with  idealistic  social  religion.  If  eugenics  were 
ever  made  the  basis  of  a  code  of  minute  legislative  pre- 
scriptions regarding  marriage  and  reproduction,  doubt- 
less it  would  become  an  intolerable  tyranny.  But  as  the 
basis  for  social  ideals  regarding  marriage  and  the  birth 
of  children,  it  is  invaluable.  Social  religion,  not  less  than 
eugenics,  is  interested  in  securing  wise  marriages  and  in 
making  sure  that  every  child  is  well-born.  Social  religion, 
too,  should  emphasize  the  social  service  which  parents 
render  to  society  in  the  birth  and  rearing  of  normal  chil- 
dren. It,  too,  should  set  up  the  ideal  that  the  physically 
strong,  the  intelligent,  and  the  economically  fortunate 
families  should  have  more  than  their  proportionate  share 
of  children,  because  the  children  born  in  such  families 
will  obviously  have  the  best  chance  to  grow  up  into  useful 
members  of  society.  Thus  a  truly  social  religion  will 
encourage  marriage  and  parenthood  among  the  socially 
normal.  It  will  insist  that  no  service  to  society  which 
men  ordinarily  render  is  greater  than  the  birth  and  rear- 
ing of  normal  children  in  a  normal  home,  and  that  this 
is  the  production  of  men  in  the  primary  sense.  It  will 
make  the  birth  of  children  in  the  family  welcome  in  pro- 
portion as  there  is  health  and  strength  and  economic 
means  to  give  them  a  fair  start  in  life,  and  it  will  con- 
demn the  selfish  individualism  which  shirks  the  obliga- 
tions of  parenthood.  Finally,  it  will  seek  to  create  in  the 
young  a  eugenic  conscience  which  will  safeguard  marriage 
and  the  birth  of  children.  Only  thus  can  the  ideals  of 


202     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  EELIGIOIST 

eugenics  stand  any  chance  of  realization,  as  Sir  Francis 
Galton,  the  founder  of  the  movement,  himself  recognized. 
Here  again  we  see  the  essential  identity  of  interest  of  ap- 
plied social  science  and  social  religion. 

But  a  eugenic  conscience  and  eugenic  ideals  are  not 
enough  in  themselves  to  assure  that  sex  impulses  will  he- 
come  socialized  and  used  always  and  only  for  the  good 
of  mankind.  In  this  age  of  medicinal  prophylactics  and 
widespread  knowledge  of  means  of  preventing  conception 
insidious  temptations  present  themselves  to  many,  and 
the  broader  view  is  necessary.  To  the  ignorant  vice  and 
immorality  appear  to  have  been  rendered  "safe."  Unless 
the  whole  level  of  sex  life  is  lifted  to  a  rational  social 
plane  and  sex  is  made  to  contribute  to  the  higher  social 
values — to  the  nobler  affections,  sentiments,  and  emotions 
— there  still  is  danger  of  sex  impulses  brutalizing  char- 
acter and  conduct. 

To  avoid  this  danger  social  religion  must  unite  with 
social  science  in  demanding  scientific  ethical  instruction 
for  the  young  in  all  matters  pertaining  to  sex.  Such  in- 
struction, if  vitally  related  to  social  obligations  in  the 
family  and  in  the  community,  would  save  the  young  from 
many  pitfalls.  Ignorance  in  this  matter,  as  in  other  social 
matters,  is  probably  one  of  the  chief  sources  of  present 
social  evils,  and  in  no  case  is  it  a  protection  to  society. 
But  such  instruction,  to  be  socially  effective,  must  be 
rightly  given  with  the  proper  ethical  background.  Sociol- 
ogy rather  than  physiology  is  the  basis  of  the  higher  sex 
moralities.  It  is  absurd  to  think  that  sex  morality  can 
be  inculcated  upon  the  basis  of  selfishness,  since  no  social 
order,  as  we  have  seen,  can  long  endure  upon  such  a  basis. 
The  control  of  sex  impulses  must  rather  be  sought  through 
the  development  of  social  conscience  and  an  altruistic 
social  spirit  in  the  young.  Hence  idealistic  social  religion 


KELIGION  AND  FAMILY  LIFE  203 

should  be  joined  with  science  in  all  sex  education.  It 
alone  can  give  an  enduring  motive  for  the  self-control 
which  will  result  in  the  highest  social  control.  If  religion 
sought  the  aid  of  social  science,  and  if  science  sought  the 
aid  of  social  religion,  this  age-long  problem  would  no 
longer  prove  impossible  of  solution.  The  purity  of  life 
already  attained  by  the  more  highly  socialized  elements 
of  society  would  be  found  to  be  possible  for  all  normal 
men  and  women.  The  venereal  diseases  which  so  disgrace 
our  civilization  would  be  more  easily  stamped  out  than 
the  measles;  for  chastity  in  both  men  and  women  and  a 
resulting  pure  family  life  would  be  found  to  be  their 
effectual  preventives.  An  enlightened  social  world  two 
centuries  hence  may  wonder,  indeed,  why  we  had  not 
already  accomplished  this;  and  the  only  answer  is  that 
both  our  science  and  our  religion  are  still  too  imperfectly 
developed  on  the  social  side. 

(3)  But  most  of  all,  must  social  religion  demand  a 
complete  change  in  our  "mores"  with  reference  to  mar- 
riage and  the  family.  Instead  of  regarding  these  as  mat- 
ters of  individual  convenience,  social  religion  must  teach 
that  they  are  social  responsibilities  and  also  opportunities 
for  human  service.  The  whole  family  life  must  be  put 
upon  an  ethical  instead  of  a  selfish  basis.  Marriage  itself 
should  come  to  symbolize,  both  in  the  minds  of  the  con- 
tracting parties  and  of  the  community,  full  consecration 
of  life  to  the  service  of  the  race.  Its  basis  should  be  not 
mere  fancy  or  passion,  nor  even  romantic  affection,  but 
an  unselfish  love  which  leads  to  a  full  and  free  consecra- 
tion of  life  to  the  promotion  not  only  of  the  welfare  and 
happiness  of  the  parties  themselves,  but  also  of  society. 
The  bonds  of  such  a  marriage  must  be  not  fear  or  coercive 
authority,  but  love  and  respect  and  the  sense  of  social 


204     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

obligation.  If  the  ideal  of  the  service  of  humanity  is  to 
dominate  marriage  and  the  family,  however,  society  in 
general  must  value  the  service  of  humanity  through  mar- 
riage and  the  family,  and  must  make  it  possible  for  each 
normal  individual  to  have  such  a  family  life. 

But  such  a  high  social  valuation  of  marriage  and  the 
family  cannot  be  attained  and  kept  unless  there  is  some 
specific  service  which  the  family  renders  to  society  that 
is  of  the  utmost  social  value.  What  is  that  service  ?  Is  it 
to  the  community?  Indirectly,  yes;  but  it  cannot  be  to 
the  physical,  economic,  and  moral  welfare  of  the  com- 
munity at  large,  because  other  institutions  could  perform 
such  service  better  than  the  family.  Is  it  simply  to  min- 
ister to  the  comfort,  happiness,  and  welfare  of  the  mar- 
ried pair?  This  would  be,  however,  such  a  narrow  and 
selfish  service  that  it  would  warrant  no  higher  social 
valuation  of  the  family  than  is  already  customary.  In- 
deed, our  low  valuation  of  marriage  and  the  family  is 
precisely  due  to  the  fact  that  so  many  people  consider 
these  to  be  institutions  whose  chief  end  is  to  serve  private 
individual  comfort,  happiness,  and  welfare. 

But  social  science  reveals  that  the  chief  end  of  mar- 
riage and  the  family  is  the  child.  The  chief  service  which 
the  family  is  called  upon  to  render  to  society,  accordingly, 
is  the  service  of  the  child.  The  child,  in  a  word,  is  the 
center  of  gravity  in  normal  family  life — the  child  that  is 
born  or  that  may  be  born.  It  is  the  child  and  its  needs 
which  lifts  marriage  and  the  family  from  the  basis  of 
selfishness  and  makes  it  possible  to  put  them  both  upon 
the  basis  of  the  widest  possible  service  to  humanity.  For 
the  child  stands  for  society  and  the  race.  The  service  of 
the  child  is  preeminently  the  service  of  the  race.  If 
humanity  is  to  continue  to  live  and  to  work  out  a  better 


KELIGION  AND  FAMILY  LIFE  205 

future,  the  welfare  of  every  child  is  of  the  highest  im- 
portance. 

In  the  great  structure  of  civilization  the  one  concrete 
problem  "which  looms  everywhere  as  of  supreme  impor- 
tance is  the  problem  of  child  welfare;  for  there  is  oppor- 
tunity to  improve  human  life  only  as  new  lives  enter  to 
make  a  fresh  start.  Child  welfare  is  the  central  problem 
of  civilization  and  social  science  shows  that  it  is  impos- 
sible of  solution  without  a  normal  family  life.  It  is  this 
which  gives  the  family,  as  we  have  already  seen,  its  com- 
manding importance  in  human  society.  The  child's 
heredity,  its  physical  care,  its  early  mental  education,  and 
its  moral  character  are  all  largely  determined  by  its 
family  life.  The  attempt  to  work  out  the  problems  of 
child  welfare  without  reference  to  the  family,  social  sci- 
ence finds,  is  as  absurd  as  the  attempt  to  make  perpetual 
motion  without  a  perpetual  source  of  energy.  The  first 
condition  of  child  welfare  is  a  normal  home  life,  for  the 
reasons  which  we  pointed  out  at  the  beginning  of  the 
chapter  and  because  all  other  child-care  agencies  which 
may  be  devised  by  philanthropy  are  inadequate  substitutes 
for  a  normal  home.  If  humanity  is  to  progress,  there- 
fore, the  whole  of  human  society  has  to  be  so  organized 
as  to  maximize  the  number  of  normal  homes  in  which 
children  can  be  properly  cared  for  and  given  a  fair  start 
in  life. 

Social  religion,  accordingly,  would  put  the  little  child 
in  the  midst.  It  would  make  our  social  values  concerning 
marriage  and  the  family  center  about  the  child.  All  the 
questions  which  men  raise  regarding  the  family  would 
then  find  answer.  It  would  be  evident,  for  example,  that 
only  a  stable  home,  one  which  is  characterized  by  endur- 
ing, unselfish  love  and  loyalty  can  best  serve  the  interests 


206     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

of  the  child.  It  would  be  evident  that  the  atmosphere  of 
the  home  should  be  one  of  altruism,  illustrating  in  the 
mutual  devotion  of  its  members  that  spirit  of  unselfish 
service  which  is  the  most  effective  means  of  educating  the 
child  socially  and  religiously.  It  would  be  evident  that 
the  family  should  be  dissolved  only  when  the  interests 
of  the  child  demand  such  a  dissolution.  Upon  such  a 
basis  there  could  be  little  talk  of  divorce  being  in  accord- 
ance with  ethical  ideals.  It  would  be  recognized  as  like 
surgery  in  medicine — an  attempt  to  deal  with  a  desperate 
situation  which  cannot  be  dealt  with  in  any  other  way 
than  by  a  last-resort  remedy. 

But  with  a  truly  social  religion  men  and  women  would 
no  longer  think  of  entering  upon  marriage  with  the  idea 
of  possible  divorce;  they  would  look  upon  marriage  as  a 
religious,  because  a  necessary  social,  bond.  Nor  would 
they  ask  for  the  right  of  divorce  by  mutual  consent.  They 
would  recognize  that  the  rights  of  society  and  of  the  child 
are  in  all  cases  paramount.  Nor  would  couples  to  whom 
no  children  happened  to  be  born  ask  for  any  different 
treatment  than  those  with  children.  They  would  recog- 
nize that  social  standards  have  to  apply  to  all  alike  and 
cannot  be  based  upon  those  exceptional  cases  in  which 
there  are  no  children  in  the  family  either  by  birth  or  by 
adoption.  In  short,  a  social  religion  in  harmony  with 
scientific  social  knowledge  would  reinstate  the  ideal  of  the 
family  as  a  lasting  union,  a  community,  whose  bonds 
should  be  broken  only  by  death. 

It  would  do  so  not  only  because  the  responsibilities 
assumed  in  family  relations  normally  end  only  with  death, 
but  also  because  sound  social  science  finds  the  social  value 
of  all  institutions  not  in  their  immediate  effect  upon  per- 
sonal comfort  and  happiness,  but  rather  in  their  educative 
influence  upon  personality.  And  it  is  evident  that  if  we 


KELIGION  AND  FAMILY  LIFE  207 

want  a  social  personality  characterized  by  tolerance  and 
good  will — that  will  minimize  conflict  and  maximize  co- 
operation in  all  the  relations  of  life — we  must  have  a 
stable  family  life  as  our  standard.  Only  with  such  a 
family  life  can  there  be  the  highest  possibilities  of  de- 
veloping altruism  in  the  character  of  the  individual.  Only 
such  a  family  life  can  help  to  build  a  better  human  world 
which  will  be  increasingly  based  upon  love.  While  the 
great  concrete  end  of  the  family  is  the  service  of  the  child, 
the  satisfaction  of  its  physical  wants  and  the  development 
of  its  social  character,  yet  this  implies  that  the  larger 
social  purpose  of  the  family  is  the  creation  of  an  ideal 
social  world.  It  is  because  it  is  the  primary  agency  for 
the  accomplishment  of  this  purpose  that  social  religion 
must  have  such  a  supreme  interest  in  the  family.  With- 
out the  family  the  flame  of  spirituality  could  not  be  kept 
burning  in  our  world ;  and  in  proportion  as  the  family 
is  permeated  by  unselfish  love,  and  so  is  made  pure  and 
stable,  the  flame  of  spirituality  will  mount  higher.1 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add  that  in  stating  the  doc- 
trines regarding  the  family  which  social  science  requires 
of  a  social  religion,  we  have  outlined  what  is  essentially 
the  Christian  ideal.  The  religion  of  Jesus  is  character- 
ized by  the  central  place  which  it  gives  to  the  child  and 
to  the  family.  It  is,  indeed,  as  we  have  seen  essentially 
an  idealization  and  projection  of  the  social  values  experi- 
enced in  the  family,  such  as  love,  service,  sacrifice,  brother- 
hood. These  values  could  scarcely  serve  as  patterns  for 
the  relations  of  men  at  large  if  the  family  failed  to  illus- 
trate them.  Love  as  a  social  principle  finds  the  initial 

1  See  Professor  Felix  Adler's  Marriage  and  Divorce,  especially 
Chapter  I.  It  is  noteworthy  that  this  clear  presentation  of  the 
Christian  ideal  of  marriage  and  the  family  is  made  by  one  outside  of 
the  Christian  church. 


208     THE  EECONSTEUCTION  OF  KELIGIOST 

test  of  its  practicability  in  the  family  group,  and  this 
Jesus  seems  to  recognize  when  he  demands  that  husbands 
shall  not  put  away  their  wives,  or  wives  their  husbands, 
and  marry  again.  The  relations  of  husband  and  wife,  he 
seems  to  teach,  are  not  different  in  principle  from  the  re-  ! 
lations  between  parents  and  children.  They  are  provided 
for  in  the  nature  of  things  and  involve  responsibilities 
which  when  once  assumed  cannot  normally  be  laid  aside. 

It  is  Jesus'  teaching  concerning  the  child,  however, 
which  helps  us  to  understand  clearly  his  teaching  con- 
cerning the  family.  He  makes  the  child  the  center  of 
gravity  in  his  system  of  concrete  values  not  less  clearly 
than  does  modern  social  science.  So  great  is  the  value 
of  the  child,  he  tells  his  disciples,  that  an  offense  to  a 
child  is  among  the  worst  of  sins,  while  the  slightest 
service,  even  the  giving  of  a  cup  of  cold  water,  is  a  re- 
ligious act  of  the  highest  significance.  He  tells  his  disci- 
ples further  that  whoever  receives  a  little  child  in  his 
name  receives  him,  and  that  to  children  belongs  the  king- 
dom of  God.  It  is  no  wonder  with  such  teachings  that 
the  early  church  took  up  child  care  as  one  of  its  primary 
social  functions.  Clearly  also  these  teachings  of  Jesus 
concerning  the  social  and  spiritual  importance  of  the  child 
must  be  correlated  with  his  teachings  concerning  marriage 
and  divorce.  These  latter  have  often  been  interpreted  as 
resting  upon  ethical  rigorism,  but  when  they  are  corre- 
lated with  his  teachings  regarding  human  relations  in 
general  and  regarding  the  child  in  particular,  they  are 
seen  rather  to  be  an  expression  of  his  religious  humani- 
tarianism. 

However,  it  is  not  our  purpose  here,  or  anywhere,  to 
attempt  a  critical  interpretation  of  Jesus'  teaching,  but 
rather  merely  to  point  out  that  a  humanitarian  religion 
based  upon  the  principles  of  social  science  is  func 


KELIGION  AND  FAMILY  LIFE  209 

mentally  in  harmony  with  the  Christianity  of  the  Gos- 
pels. The  family  is  society  in  miniature.  If  men  can- 
not be  socialized  in  those  primary  relations  of  life  which 
it  represents,  it  is  idle  to  think  that  they  can  be  in  the 
wider,  more  complex  relations  of  larger  groups.  The 
ideals  of  love,  loyalty,  service,  sacrifice,  forgiveness,  and 
conciliation  must  be  found  adequate  controls  over  the  be- 
havior of  men  in  the  family  if  they  are  to  be  found  prac- 
ticable in  the  larger  relations  of  life.  The  indispensable 
preliminary  to  a  Christian  society  is  a  Christian  family 
life. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


RELIGION    AND    ECONOMIC    LIFE 

A  RELIGION  adapted  to  the  needs  of  human  life  must 
have  a  scientifically  sound  and  unequivocal  doctrine  con- 
cerning the  material  conditions  of  life — especially  con- 
cerning those  conditions  under  which  men  live  and  work, 
that  we  term  "economic."  Social  religion  must  fearlessly 
oppose  anything  immoral  or  unjust  in  the  economic  system 
in  which  men  must  work  and  live,  because  such  evil  will 
make  impossible  the  realization  of  a  satisfactory  moral 
character  in  individuals  and  of  a  satisfactory  order  in 
society.  Injustice  in  these  fundamental  conditions  of  life 
is  bound  to  have  effects  in  the  religious  and  moral  life. 
While  there  is  no  scientific  warrant  for  a  doctrine  of  com- 
plete economic  determinism,  yet  all  progress  in  the  social 
sciences  has  served  to  reveal  more  and  more  clearly  the 
importance  of  the  economic  element  both  in  individual 
and  in  social  life.  The  social  environment  as  a  whole,  both 
material  and  spiritual,  science  shows,  plays  the  prepon- 
derant part  in  the  determination  of  the  moral  character 
of  the  mass  of  individuals.  Now,  economic  conditions  are 
the  chief  material  elements  in  the  social  environment.  It 
is  idle,  therefore,  to  think  that  religious  ideals  can  be 
realized  if  economic  conditions  hostile  to  those  ideals  are 
permitted  to  exist.1 

1  It  surely  needs  no  argument  to  show,  e.  g.,  that  food  is  so  funda- 
mental in  human  life  and  the  conditions  under  which  it  can  be 
secured  are  so  precarious  and  complicated  that  religion  must  play  a 
leading  part  in  controlling  these  conditions  if  it  is  going  to  redeem 
the  lives  of  men.  See  above  p.  164. 

210 


KELIGION  AND  ECONOMIC  LIFE        211 

Now  if  the  aim  of  social  religion  is  the  production  of 
men,  of  the  values  connected  with  human  personality, 
then  one  of  its  first  tasks  must  be  to  help  devise  a  system 
of  business  and  industry,  of  work  and  material  reward, 
which  will  be  in  harmony  with  that  aim.  Eeligion  dare 
not  be  merely  a  system  of  abstract  ideals  and  values  out 
of  relation  with  real  life.  That,  as  we  have  seen,  is  one 
of  the  causes  of  its  social  failure.  It  must  be  a  set  of  prac- 
tical attitudes  toward  practical  problems.  It  is  idle  to 
talk  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  of  an  ideal  social  order  in 
which  the  divine  will  is  realized,  as  long  as  an  essentially 
pagan  economic  system  persists.  The  economic  life  must 
become  suffused  with  the  highest  spiritual  values ;  it  must 
be  dominated  by  humanitarian  ethics,  if  ever  such  an 
order  is  to  be  realized.  Such  an  economic  life  is  not  im- 
possible. Yet  it  can  become  general  only  if  the  economic 
system  be  such  as  to  make  possible  a  normal  life  for  all, 
only  if  it  emphasizes  the  values  in  men  rather  than  the 
values  in  things,  respects  personality,  and  serves  the  phys- 
ical and  moral  welfare  of  all.  Such  a  system  must  mani- 
festly be  not  only  in  accord  with  the  principles  of  liberty 
and  justice,  but  such  as  to  maximize  co-operation  and  to 
minimize  hostility  and  conflict  among  all  men.  It  is 
clearly  the  duty  of  religious  people  to  make  the  realiza- 
tion of  such  an  economic  order  a  prime  object  of  the 
practical  religious  life.1 

1  Steps  have  been  taken  in  this  direction  by  leading  denominations 
by  the  adoption  of  "The  Social  Creed  of  the  Churches"  and  similar 
declarations  (see  appendix).  Concerning  these,  Professor  Ward  (The 
New  Social  Order,  p.  350)  well  remarks:  "The  meaning  of  these 
programs  has  not  yet  been  perceived  by  millions  of  persons  belonging 
to  the  organizations  which  have  written  them."  This  is  seen  in  such 
incidents  as  that  at  Pittsburgh,  Pa.,  in  1920,  when  the  Y.  W.  C.  A. 
was  refused  support  by  business  men's  organizations  because  it  had 
adopted  "The  Social  Creed  of  the  Churches."  In  general,  religion  haa 
been  too  "other-worldly"  to  concern  itself  until  very  recently  with 
economic  conditions.  See  Chapter  III  of  this  book. 


212     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  EELIGIOIST 

Yet  no  phase  of  life  has  come  less  definitely  under  the 
influence  of  ethical  religion  than  the  economic.  It  is  in 
the  economic  sphere  that  we  expect  selfishness  to  be  most 
in  evidence;  and  it  was  the  observation  of  the  economic 
life  of  the  nineteenth  century  which  built  up  the  phi- 
losophy which  proclaimed  that  self-interest  rules  all  men 
in  all  things,  and  even  that  action  upon  any  other  basis 
than  self-interest  is  inconceivable.  It  is  in  the  economic! 
sphere,  in  a  word,  that  the  baldest  selfishness,  greed,  and 
inconsiderateness  of  others  is  to  be  found.  We  have  al- 
ready seen  how  even  at  the  present  time,  in  a  part  of  our 
business  and  financial  world,  predatory  pagan  standards 
prevail  almost  as  they  did  before  the  Christian  movement 
began.1  Rich  and  poor,  employer  and  employee,  alike  too 
often  hold  that  they  are  entitled  to  all  they  can  get  and 
can  keep,  regardless  of  the  service  rendered.  Instead  of 
seeking  only  just  compensation  for  service  rendered,  both 
working  man  and  business  man  too  often  seek  to  get  as 
much  as  they  can  and  to  give  as  little  in  return  as  pos- 
sible. Indeed,  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  the  passion 
to  get  "something  for  nothing"  dominates  modern  eco- 
nomic life,  in  the  sense  that  it  gives  color  and  tone  to 
its  most  characteristic  features. 

In  a  word,  we  have  an  economic  system,  as  one  abl< 
economist  has  pointed  out,  which  emphasizes  rights,  privi- 
leges, and  rewards,  instead  of  functions,  obligations,  and 
service.2    The  result  is  that  instead  of  a  fair  exchange  of 

1  See  Chapter  IV. 

*  Tawney,  The  Acquisitive  Society,  Chapter  II.  Similarly,  Professor 
Small  has  pointed  out  that  in  the  economic  process  as  described  by 
the  classical  economists — and  they  were  describing  actual  facts — 
wealth  was  the  end  and  inrn  irrrr  the  means.  While  economic  theory 
has  become  more  humanistic,  economic  practice  too  often  has  remained 
as  the  classical  economists  descril>ed  it,  which  is  proof,  not  that  they 
were  right  in  their  theories,  but  that  we  are  still  wrong  in  our 
practices. 


RELIGION  AND  ECONOMIC  LIFE        213 

goods  and  services  being  sought  by  all,  the  greatest  pos- 
sible private  gain  is  usually  sought;  and  this  works  out 
in  practice,  not  in  that  equal  exchange  of  services  which 
we  have  described  as  the  very  essence  of  happy  and  har- 
monious social  living,  but  in  a  tendency  to  exploitation. 
Naturally  it  is  the  weak  who  get  exploited  under  such 
circumstances.  The  employer  who  makes  private  profit  his 
standard  considers  it  merely  "good  business"  to  hire  labor 
in  as  cheap  a  market  as  can  be  found,  and  to  pay  the 
laborer  only  what  is  barely  necessary.  Regarding  labor 
as  a  "commodity,"  he  naturally  treats  the  laborer  as  a 
"hand,"  and  regards  him  simply  as  a  means  to  the  pro- 
duction of  so  much  wealth.  Similarly  the  merchant  or 
corporation  that  makes  private  profit  the  standard  con- 
Aiders  it  fair  to  get  out  of  the  consumer  as  much  as  pos- 
sible. 

The  consequence  is  that  society  is  divided  not  simply 
into  normal  economic  classes,  but  into  abnormal  classes, 
exploiters  and  exploited,  who  regard  each  other  with  sus- 
picion and  hostility.  Our  civilization,  as  a  further  con- 
sequence, is  forever  on  the  verge  of  class  war,  and  even 
at  best  is  so  divided  into  distrustful  and  egoistic  groups 
that  no  high  efficiency  is  possible.  Even  at  the  present 
moment  when  our  world  so  sorely  needs  to  be  united  in 
the  tasks  of  restoration,  rehabilitation,  and  reconstruction, 
instead  of  being  united  in  the  work  of  life,  over  one-half 
of  our  potential  energy  is  dissipated  through  misunder- 
standing, mistrust,  and  conflict. 

Like  slavery,  the  system  is  equally  bad  for  the  privi- 
leged and  the  non-privileged.  The  economically  fortunate 
often  live  luxuriously,  and  without  serious  labor  of  their 
own,  upon  the  proceeds  of  the  labor  of  others.  Hence, 
they  too  frequently  develop  selfish,  arrogant,  unsympa- 
thetic social  attitudes,  and  devote  themselves  to  lives  of 


214     THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

sensuality  and  self-indulgence.  The  man  who  labors,  on 
the  other  hand,  is  too  often  degraded,  not  only  because 
through  exploitation,  he  remains  poor  and  ignorant,  but 
because  he  is  in  a  class  which  is  looked  down  upon  and 
which  has  but  little  chance  to  rise.  He  either  loses  ambi- 
tion to  rise,  or,  accepting  the  materialistic  standards  of 
the  rich,  develops  an  envious,  sullen,  shirking  attitude 
and  renders  the  least  service  he  can — if  indeed  he  does 
not  become  a  violent  enemy  of  the  existing  order.  It  is 
thus  that  modern  society  has  become  a  divided  household. 

Eminent  economists  and  statisticians  have  often  set 
forth  the  main  economic  facts  of  the  situation.  They 
have  pointed  out  that  even  in  the  United  States  "two  per 
cent  of  the  population  possesses  the  lion's  share,"  that  is, 
almost  sixty  per  cent  of  the  wealth,  while  "the  poorest 
two-thirds  of  the  people  own  but  a  petty  five  or  six  per 
cent  of  the  wealth,"  1  and  nearly  one-half  of  all  families 
have  no  taxable  property.  Of  the  poorer  half  of  the  popu- 
lation, a  large  fraction  (in  the  United  States,  at  least 
ten  per  cent  of  the  total  population  even  in  prosperous 
times)  have  not  sufficient  income  to  provide  themselves 
with  the  necessities  of  life,  and  live  constantly,  as  we  say, 
below  the  poverty  line.2  This  is  not  surprising  when  we 
learn  that  "it  is  certain  that  at  least  one-third  and  pos- 
sibly one-half  of  the  families  of  wage  earners  employed 
in  manufacturing  and  mining  earn  in  the  course  of  the 
year  less  than  enough  to  support  them  in  anything  like 
a  comfortable  and  decent  condition."  3  Similarly  we  find 

1  King:  The  Wealth  and  Income  of  the  People  of  the  United  States, 
pp.  80-82.  This  book  is  invaluable  for  the  study  of  the  problem  of 
the 


le  distribution  of  wealth. 
1  Parmelee,  Pov( 
*  Keport  Commi 
64th  Cong.,  p.  22. 


3  Parmelee,  Poverty  and  Social  Progress,  p.  105. 

*  Keport  Commission  on  Industrial  Relations,  Senate  Doc.  No.  415, 


EELIGION  AND  ECONOMIC  LIFE        215 

that  in  1915  careful  study  showed  that  more  than  one- 
half  of  the  families  of  the  United  States  received  less  than 
$800  as  an  annual  income,  although  that  amount  was  esti- 
mated by  experts  ahout  the  same  time  to  be  the  minimum 
amount  necessary  to  support  an  average  family.  While 
wages  rose  greatly  during  the  war,  especially  in  the  skilled 
occupations,  the  cost  of  living  rose  so  much  that  in  1919 
experts  estimated  that  the  minimum  amount  necessary  to 
support  a  family  of  five  was,  in  many  places  in  the  United 
States,  above  $2,000  a  year.  The  rewards  of  capital 
meanwhile  had  so  increased  that  by  1917,  the  banner  year 
for  profits,  capital  received  in  profits,  in  addition  to  in- 
terest, more  than  twenty-five  per  cent  of  the  entire  amount 
added  to  the  value  of  the  products  of  industry  by  labor, 
though  in  ordinary  times  profits  usually  amount  to  less 
than  half  that  per  cent.1  The  net  result  of  the  war  seems 
indeed  to  have  been  to  turn  more  wealth  into  the  hands 
of  the  fortunate  few,  while  the  economic  position  of  the 
masses,  in  the  United  States  as  well  as  in  Europe,  has 
probably  been  rendered  more  precarious. 

Accompanying  this  poverty  and  low  wages  there  have 
been  often  too  long  hours  of  work,  the  labor  of  children 
and  married  women  outside  the  home,  and  much  unem- 
ployment. It  has  been  shown  that  the  wage  earners  in 
the  principal  industries  in  the  United  States  lose  on  the 
average  from  one-fifth  to  one-fourth  of  their  working  time 
during  a  normal  year.  If  this  is  so,  high  wages  by  the 
day  or  the  week  may  not  look  so  high  when  the  loss  of 
time  through  unemployment  is  taken  into  account.  In 
periods  of  industrial  depression  unemployment  frequently 
rises  to  staggering  proportions.  During  the  summer  of 
1921  the  number  of  the  unemployed  in  the  United  States 

1  Friday,  Profits,  Waget,  and  Price*,  pp.  124-130. 


216     THE  KECONSTKUCTIOST  OF  KELIGIOtf 

was  variously  estimated  to  be  from  four  million  to  six 
million.  Much  of  this  unemployment  is  simply  due  to 
industrial  maladjustments  in  the  relations  of  employer 
and  employee.  Indeed,  a  majority  of  the  waste  connected 
with  our  industrial  system  seems  to  be  a  direct  result  of 
the  basis  of  selfishness  upon  which  business  is  carried  on. 
Strikes  and  lockouts,  low  wages  and  long  hours,  exploita- 
tion and  sabotage,  friction  and  bickering  of  every  sort, 
are  certain  evidences  at  least  that  the  spirit  of  co-opera- 
tion does  not  rule  in  our  economic  life.  And  it  is  from 
these  things  that  the  greatest  losses  in  time,  in  energy,  in 
wages,  and  in  productiveness  in  industry  spring. 

Indeed,  it  is  not  so  much  the  poverty  and  inequalities 
produced  by  our  present  economic  system  which  lead  to 
its  condemnation  by  the  most  thoughtful  as  the  ineffi- 
ciency and  conflict  which  result  from  it.  Says  a  leading 
economist,1  "There  is  one,  and  only  one,  test  by  which 
to  measure  the  soundness  of  any  movement  in  social  life, 
in  industry,  or  in  politics.  Does  it  make  for  peace  or 
for  violence  ?  Does  it  extend  the  field  of  voluntary  agree- 
ment among  free  citizens,  or  does  it  extend  the  field  of 
authority?  Does  it  enlarge  the  opportunities  of  those 
who  inspire  fear,  or  does  it  enlarge  the  opportunities  of 
those  who  prosper  through  good  will?"  Judged  by  this 
test,  which  we  accept,  our  present  economic  system  must 
surely  be  found  wanting,  for  it  breeds  misunderstand- 
ings, hatreds,  and  violence.  Moreover,  fear  more  often 
than  love  is  the  motive  to  which  it  appeals,  and  too  often 
it  forgets  to  safeguard  the  liberty  of  the  individual.  In 
its  ignoring  of  personality  and  of  human  brotherhood,  in 
its  too  frequent  denial  of  liberty  and  justice  and  social 
responsibility,  in  its  emphasis  upon  self-interest,  and  in 
its  scouting  of  love  and  of  service  for  the  common  welfare 

1  Professor  T.  N.  Carver,  of  Harvard  University. 


KELIGION  AND  ECONOMIC  LIFE        217 

as  possible  and  practicable  economic  motives,  it  is  essen- 
tially a  pagan  system  and  must  be  fearlessly  opposed  as 
such  by  all  who  wish  a  Christian  world,  that  is  to  say  a 
world  of  peace,  good  will  and  universal  co-operation. 

No  revolution  in  social  and  industrial  organization  will 
remedy  the  evils  of  such  an  economic  system ;  for  its  evils 
are  not  external,  but  in  its  spirit  and  inner  nature.  Mod- 
ern capitalism  has  often  been  accused  of  being  pagan  in 
its  ethics,  and  the  most  searching,  most  impartial,  most 
scientific  investigation  has  practically  substantiated  this 
charge.1  Indeed  we  could  not  well  expect  it  to  be  other- 
wise in  our  semi-pagan  civilization.  The  problem  is  not 
one  merely  of  a  change  in  an  external  order.  A  change 
which  is  nothing  less  than  climatic,  as  we  have  already 
said,  is  needed  in  our  whole  social  and  economic  life  if  the 
primacy  of  human  values  in  industry  is  to  be  effectively 
recognized.  The  whole  spirit  of  our  business  and  finan- 
cial world  must  be  changed — our  economic  "mores"  as  a 
whole  must  be  transformed.  Doubtless  this  means  cor- 
responding changes  in  our  methods  of  business  and  in  our 
industrial  organization;  but  the  change  in  the  spirit  and 
purpose  of  our  economic  life  must  come  first,  or  else  mere 
external  changes  may  prove  but  a  new  means  of  exploita- 
tion. On  the  other  hand,  old  forms  of  business  and  in- 
dustry may  make  impossible  the  success  of  a  new,  more 
Christian,  more  humane  spirit  in  our  economic  life.  Evi- 
dently here,  as  everywhere  in  social  life,  changes  in  inner 
spirit  and  aim  must  be  accompanied  by  changes  in  ex- 
ternal methods  and  order  if  any  lasting  betterment  is  to 


1  See  Tawney  (op.  cit.).  For  a  brief,  dispassionate  statement,  see 
Professor  J.  H.  Tuft's  article  on  "Ethics  of  Capitalism"  in  Dictionary 
of  Religion  and  Ethics  (published  by  The  Macmillan  Company,  1921). 


218     THE  KECOSTSTKUCTIOX  OF  RELIGION 

be  effected.     What  then  are  the  changes  necessary?    And 
how  may  they  be  brought  about  ? 

It  is  certain  that  while  social  science  may  indicate  the 
means  and  even  outline  the  concrete  details  of  a  new 
order,  social  religion — enthusiasm  for  humanity — must 
furnish  the  driving  motive  if  ever  such  order  is  to  be 
realized.  The  task  is  of  such  magnitude  that  it  requires 
the  combined  resources  of  science  and  religion.  Humani- 
tarian enthusiasm  and  the  ethical  ideals  which  it  inspires 
may  guide  up  to  a  certain  point;  but  adequate  scientific 
knowledge  can  alone  furnish  the  means  of  solving  the  real 
difficulties  of  the  problem.  Here  we  must  agree  with 
those  religious  conservatives  who  hold  that  religion  has 
no  right  to  meddle  with  social  problems  without  adequate 
knowledge  based  upon  scientific  investigation  of  facts. 
We  must  agree  because  manifold  experience  in  the  past 
has  shown  that  mere  good  intentions  will  not  do.  But  on 
the  other  hand,  social  religion  cannot  stand  aside  when 
the  welfare  of  human  beings  is  at  stake.  Evidently  there 
is  only  one  way  out  of  the  dilemma,  and  that  is  for  social 
religion  to  ally  itself  with  science.  Religious  people  can 
get  the  facts  if  they  wish  them,  and  any  worthwhile  social 
religion  will  insist  that  it  is  a  supreme  duty  to  secure 
the  facts  concerning  every  social  situation  which  affects 
the  welfare  of  human  beings  and  to  give  them  full  pub- 
licity. The  absolute  dependence  of  social  religion  upon 
social  science  for  concrete  guidance  here  emerges.  Re- 
ligion must  take  sides  on  questions  which  affect  human 
welfare;  but,  when  the  question  is  a  controverted  one, 
it  can  do  so  intelligently  only  after  the  full  facts  are 
before  it.  Before  social  religion  can  guide  aright,  for 
example,  in  the  great  industrial  and  economic  problems 
of  the  present,  it  must  square  itself  with  the  facts  of  eco- 
nomic science,  and  build  its  program  for  the  redemption 


KELIGION  AND  ECONOMIC  LIFE        219 

of  our  economic  life  in  accordance  with  scientific  princi- 
ples. The  social  ideal  which  religion  sets  up  must  be 
within  the  limits  of  the  economically  possible. 

What  then  are  the  limitations1  which  social  and  eco- 
nomic science  impose  upon  the  religious  ideal  ?  To  dis- 
cuss this  matter  fully  would  be  to  review  all  the  princi- 
ples of  modern  sociology  and  economics.  It  will  suffice 
for  our  purposes  to  point  out  four  limitations  which 
science  imposes  upon  ethical  and  religious  ideals  in  their 
relations  to  the  economic  life.  In  the  ftrst^  place  anything  / 
like  pure  communism  is  impossible  in  civilized  society. 
Even  so-called  primitive  communism  restricted  the  prog- 
ress of  the  peoples  who  practised  it  and  was  largely  re- 
sponsible for  such  peoples  remaining  in  an  undeveloped 
condition.  In  the  complex  conditions  of  modern  society 
communism  is  much  more  impossible.  Every  experiment 
in  a  communistic  organization  of  society  for  the  last  two 
thousand  years  has  failed  and  the  recent  experiment  in 
Eussia  can  have  no  other  outcome.  The  most  elementary 
understanding  of  the  principles  of  sociology  and  eco- 
nomics points  to  this  conclusion.  Individual  functions  and 
functioning,  individual  rights  and  responsibilities,  divi- 
sion of  labor,  control  over  production  and  consumption, 
economic  rewards  and  penalties,  all  presuppose  private 
property  in  a  complex  society.  Property  and  personality, 
in  other  words,  are  closely  linked  in  their  development, 
and  so  also  property  and  civilization.  Private  ownership 

1  Broadly  viewed,  economic  truths,  of  course,  are  not  "limitations" 
upon  social  religion,  but  are  rather  aids  in  defining  a  practicable 
social  ethics  upon  a  basis  of  facts.  They  are,  therefore,  opportunities, 
if  rightly  utilized,  for  religion  to  be  of  the  largest  service  to  men. 
Strictly  speaking,  then,  science  does  not  place  limitations  upon 
religion  (unless  calling  it  from  the  world  of  dreams  to  the  world  of 
realities  be  a  limitation),  but  comes  to  its  aid  by  giving  a  basis  of 
scientific  facts  and  laws  for  a  social  ethics. 


220     THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGIOtf 

in  some  sense  has  been,  and  is,  as  necessary  for  human 
society  of  any  developed  type  as  the  private  family.  So- 
cieties in  order  to  have  any  high  degree  of  efficiency  must 
harness  about  equally  the  egoistic  and  altruistic  impulses 
of  human  nature.  It  has  often  been  said  that  private 
property  develops  only  the  egoistic  impulses;  but  it  is 
evident  that  if  rightly  used  it  may  develop  equally  the 
altruistic  impulses.  Idealistic  morality,  indeed,  pre- 
supposes private  property.  Any  one  who  has  read  the 
Ten  Commandments  carefully  knows  that  private  prop- 
erty is  written  in  between  their  lines.1  In  brief  the  in- 
stitution of  private  property  has  been  one  of  the  founda- 
tions of  all  culture  and  of  all  progress,  and  the  tradition 
of  private  property,  purified  of  pagan  abuses,  must  be 
preserved  as  one  of  the  cornerstones  of  our  civilization. 

While  communism  is  impossible  on  any  large  scale  in 
our  society,  still  this  does  not  mean  that  something  of 
the  spirit  of  communism  may  not  be  necessary  for  the 
highest  development  of  civilization.  In  the  primitive  com- 
munism of  the  Eskimo,  anthropologists  tell  us,  a  whole 
village  of  Eskimo  may  perish  from  starvation  but  a  single 
Eskimo  never,  because  as  long  as  any  food  remains  it  will 
be  divided,  when  necessity  demands,  equally  among  all 
the  members  of  the  group.  Surely  something  of  this 
spirit  must  pervade  every  human  group  that  is  rightly 
organized  and  has  the  right  standards  of  living.  The 
private  property  which  the  Eskimo  have  (and  they  have 
considerable)  does  not  prevent  this  in  their  case,  nor 
should  it  prevent  it  in  ours.  Again,  while  communism 
as  a  form  of  economic  organization  is  impossible,  this 
does  not  mean  that  public  ownership  is  thereby  con- 

1  Compare  the  similar  statement  by  Professor  Small  in  Between 
Era*  from  Capitalism  to  Democracy,  p.  366.  The  book  is  a  strong 
indictment  of  modern  capitalism  with  a  plea  for  the  subordination 
of  property  rights  to  human  values. 


KELIGION  AND  ECONOMIC  LIFE        221 

demned.  Public  and  private  ownership  have  existed  side 
by  side  through  all  the  centuries  of  human  history,  their 
proportions  varying  according  to  the  circumstances  and 
needs  of  the  social  life,  and  they  will  doubtless  continue 
so  to  exist.1  There  may  be  a  large  place  for  public  owner- 
ship even  if  communism  is  impossible.  These  questions 
will  be  taken  up  again  later. 

Another  limitation  which  modern  social  and  economic 
scienc<r~places  upon  religious  ideals  is  the  perception  of 
the  impossibility  of  the  abolition  of  social  and  economic 
classes.  Classes  exist  in  society  not  only  because  of  the 
natural  differences  among  men,  but  even  more  because  of 
the  necessity  of  the  division  of  labor  in  any  developed 
social  life.  Classes  based  upon  artificial  distinctions  are 
to  be  condemned  and  cannot  be  justified  by  any  of  the 
facts  of  social  science.  But  classes  based  upon  natural 
differences  in  ability  and  talent  or  upon  necessary  divi- 
sions of  labor  in  a  complex  social  order  are  something 
wholly  different.  No  civilized  society  has  been  able  to 
dispense  with  such  classes,  and  no  civilized  society  pos- 
sibly can.  Equality  of  rights  and  opportunities  is  theo- 
retically possible  in  society,  but  not  equality  of  functions 
and  rewards,  unless  we  give  a  moral  rather  than  a  prac- 
tical and  economic  sense  to  such  terms. 

The  attempt  to  abolish  economic  classes  in  civilized 
society,  in  particular,  is  impossible.  It  is  impossible  be- 
cause the  fundamental  economic  classes  are  based  upon 
the  nature  of  human  industry  and  its  necessary  division 
of  labor.  There  must  be,  for  example,  the  class  of  pro- 
ducers of  raw  materials,  which  roughly  coincides  with  the 

1  See  Ely,  Property  and  Contract  in  Their  Relations  to  the  Dis- 
tribution of  Wealth;  also  Property,  Its  Duties  and  Rights,  by  Pro- 
fessor Hobhouse,  Professor  Bartlet,  Dr.  A.  J.  Carlyle  and  others. 


222     THE  EEOONSTKUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

agricultural  producers,  or  the  farming  class.  There  must 
also  be  a  class  to  work  up  these  raw  materials  into  manu- 
factured products,  which  roughly  in  our  society  coincides 
with  factory  laborers.  In  any  highly  developed  society 
there  must  also  be  a  class  who  undertake  and  direct  busi- 
ness enterprises,  which  class  roughly  coincides  in  our 
society,  with  the  business  men.  Finally  in  a  highly 
developed  society  there  must  be  a  class  who  render  cer- 
tain expert  services  and  who  have  special  charge  of  the 
higher  interests  of  culture  on  its  spiritual  side.  This  class 
roughly  coincides  in  our  civilization  with  the  professional 
classes.  These  four  fundamental  classes,  which  we  may 
roughly  call  farmers,  factory  laborers,  business  men,  and 
professional  men,  with  other  minor  classes,  every  highly 
developed  civilization  must  have.  And  the  economic 
problem  of  our  time  is  very  largely  how  to  adjust  the  in- 
terests of  these  necessary  economic  classes  and  to  get  them 
all  to  work  together  for  the  common  welfare.  The  im- 
possibility of  abolishing  such  fundamental  economic  classes 
must  be  evident,  but  this  surely  does  not  mean  that  there 
needs  to  be  conflict  between  them. 

Another  limitation  which  scientific  investigation  puts 
upon  economic  ideals  in  religion  and  ethics  is  the  percep- 
tion that  for  the  present,  at  least,  the  economic  problem 
is  not  one  merely  of  distribution,  but  is  even  more  a 
problem  of  production.1  If  all  the  wealth  of  the  United 
States,  the  richest  nation  in  the  world,  were  equally 
divided  there  still  would  not  be  enough  for  a  good  life 
with  a  proper  standard  of  living  for  every  family.2  The 

1  See  Professor  H.  B.  Gardner's  address  on  "The  Nature  of  Our 
Economic  Problem,"  before  the  American  Economic  Association  in 
1919  (in  the  American  Economic  Review,  March,  1920). 

1  According  to  the  National  Bureau  of  Economic  Research,  the 
average  income  per  individual  in  the  United  {States  in  1913  was 


KELIGION  AND  ECONOMIC  LIFE        223 

same  would  be  true  if  the  annual  income  were  equally 
divided.  And  these  statements  which  hold  true  of  the 
United  States  are  even  more  true  of  the  other  nations  of 
the  world.  Evidently  before  a  satisfactory  standard  of 
living  can  be  made  available  for  the  masses  of  men,  pro- 
duction will  have  to  be  enormously  increased.  This  hard 
scientific  fact  has  an  immense  bearing  upon  economic 
problems  and  ideals.  We  see  at  once  that  the  economic 
problem  of  the  "world  is  not  merely  one  of  sharing  goods 
but  of  sharing  responsibilities  and  burdens.  This  does 
not  mean  however  that  there  should  be  any  injustice  in 
the  distribution  of  either  goods  or  burdens.  Indeed  it  is 
obvious  that  one  of  the  surest  ways  to  increase  produc- 
tion is  for  every  one  to  have  the  conviction  that  his  own 
individual  efforts  are  certain  to  meet  with  just  reward. 
Production  is  to  be  encouraged,  but  one  way  to  encourage 
production  is  to  equalize  opportunities  and  to  secure  jus- 
tice in  distribution. 

A  fourth  limitation  which  scientific  knowledge  places 
upon  religious  and  ethical  ideals  is  the  fact  that  it  is  im- 
possible for  very  large  and  complex  groups  to  look  after 
and  safeguard  completely  the  welfare  and  rights  of  their 
individual  members  through  any  collective  measures. 
Hence  the  necessity  of  leaving  to  individuals  a  measure 
of  liberty  and  of  power  to  look  after  and  safeguard  their 
own  welfare  and  rights.  This  is  exactly  what  indeed  the 
concept  of  private  individual  right  connotes  scientifically. 
It  is  a  privilege  or  a  power  which  society  has  seen  fit  to 
leave  with  the  individual  because  social  welfare  on  the 

$354.00,  or  $1770.00  per  family  of  five;  and  in  1918,  if  reckoned 
in  "1913  dollars,"  it  was  etill  only  $372.00  per  individual,  or  $1860.00 
per  family  of  five.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  argue  that  such  an 
income  per  family  would  provide  no  high  standard  of  living.  See  the 
works  of  King  and  Friday  already  cited. 


224     THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGIOST 

whole  is  promoted  by  the  leaving  of  such  right  or  power 
with  the  individual.  Every  social  right,  in  other  words, 
springs  from  a  social  function  and  presupposes  a  social 
obligation.1  But  society  functions  through  individuals. 
Hence  every  society  finds  it  necessary  to  give  some  degree 
of  security  and  liberty  to  the  individual  and  to  stimulate 
individual  initiative  and  independence.  The  higher  so- 
cieties are  especially  characterized  by  this  security  and 
liberty  of  their  individual  members  and  by  individual 
initiative  and  independence.  This  is,  of  course,  one  of 
the  meanings  of  the  institution  of  private  property,  and 
why  it  is  necessary  for  a  high  civilization.  It  is  evident 
that  any  scientific  social  program  must  aim  at  the  further- 
ance, within  all  reasonable  limits,  of  the  security  and  lib- 
erty of  the  individual  and  at  the  promotion  of  individual 
initiative  and  independence  of  personality. 

This  clearly  means  that  a  scientific  social  program  must 
aim  at  the  extension  of  the  benefits  of  private  property  to 
all,  rather  than  the  limitation  of  those  benefits  to  a  few. 
If  private  property  aids  in  the  reasonable  security  and 
liberty  of  the  individual,  then  its  benefits  should  obvi- 
ously be  extended  to  all.  Now,  it  is  precisely  one  of  the 
just  condemnations  of  our  present  economic  system  that 
it  leaves  so  many  without  the  protection  and  opportunities 
which  a  reasonable  amount  of  private  property  would 
bring,  while  others  have  such  large  amounts  that  they  are 
tempted,  as  we  have  seen,  to  prodigality,  self-indulgence, 

1  Says  Tawney  (op.  cit.  p.  51):  "The  individual  has  no  absolute 
rights;  they  are  relative  to  the  function  which  he  performs  in  the 
community  of  which  he  is  a  member  because,  unless  they  are  so 
limited,  the  consequences  must  be  something  in  the  nature  of 
private  war.  All  rights,  in  short,  are  conditional  and  derivative. 
They  are  derived  from  the  end  or  purpose  of  the  society  in  which 
they  exist.  They  are  conditional  on  being  used  to  contribute  to  the 
attainment  of  that  end." 


KELIGION  AND  ECONOMIC  LIFE        225 

and  even  the  grossest  materialism.1  Obviously  society 
should  aim  at  the  guaranteeing  to  each  of  its  members, 
if  possible,  of  the  minimum  amount  of  private  property 
necessary  to  insure  reasonable  security  and  the  develop- 
ment of  personality.  This  it  can  do,  we  shall  see,  by  a 
rational  system  of  equalizing  opportunities.  Evidently, 
while  the  primary  necessity  of  economic  life  is  produc- 
tion, yet  if  the  production  of  men  be  kept  in  mind  as 
the  great  function  of  human  society,  then  the  just  dis- 
tribution of  wealth  and  income  in  such  a  way  as  to  pro- 
mote the  highest  degree  of  common  welfare  is  a  problem 
scarcely  less  important  than  production  itself.  It  is,  of 
course,  this  problem  of  the  just  distribution  of  wealth  and 
property  with  which  our  civilization  is  only  now  begin- 
ning seriously  to  grapple. 

Now,  these  limitations  which  scientific  knowledge 
places  upon  ethical  and  religious  ideals  in  their  relation 
to  our  economic  life  do  not,  of  course,  mean  that  a  Chris- 
tian social  order  or  a  co-operative  commonwealth  is  impos- 
sible. To  claim  that  a  Christian  social  order  is  impos- 
sible because  communism  is  impossible  is  absurd;  and 
it  is  equally  absurd  to  make  the  same  claim  because  of 
the  impossibility  of  the  abolition  of  classes,  or  because  of 
the  primary  necessity  in  the  economic  life  of  paying 
attention  to  production,  or  because  of  the  impossibility 
of  large  groups  safeguarding  completely  the  rights  and 
welfare  of  their  individual  members  without  private 
property  and  individual  liberty.  None  of  these  limita- 
tions seriously  affects  the  possibility  of  realizing  a  co- 
operative economic  order  in  human  society,  because 

1  Compare  Hobhouse's  admirable  presentation  of  the  same  general 
ideas  in  the  chapter  on  "Economic  Liberalism"  in  his  Liberalism 
(Chapter  VIII). 


226     THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

co-operation  is  more  dependent  upon  inner  attitudes  and 
ideals  than  upon  external  forms  and  machinery. 

Nor  do  these  limitations  mean  that  the  socialization  of 
property  is  impossible,  unless  "socialization"  is  held  to  be 
synonymous  with  communism.  But  no  sane  social  thinker 
holds  to  any  such  narrow  conception  of  socialization. 
Socialization  is  the  process  by  which  individuals  and 
things  are  made  to  serve  the  common  welfare.  Every 
individual  and  every  institution,  from  the  family  to  the 
state,  should  be  socialized.  This  is  indeed,  in  one  sense, 
the  whole  purpose  and  end  of  the  social  process,  and  hence 
of  social  evolution.  Property  must  become  socialized,  not 
less  than  the  individual.  All  of  the  abuses  of  property 
spring  from  the  fact  that,  like  all  existing  institutions,  it 
is  still  incompletely  socialized,  indeed,  as  we  have  noted, 
perhaps  the  most  incompletely  of  all.  But  the  socializa- 
tion of  property  is  not  a  matter  which  can  be  settled  by 
vesting  the  legal  title  to  it  in  a  collectivity  rather  than  in 
individuals.  Legal  ownership  is  a  relatively  unimpor- 
tant matter  as  compared  to  the  spirit  which  motivates  the 
possessor  of  property  in  its  use.  Property,  in  a  word, 
is  to  be  socialized  by  socializing  its  use,  by  devoting  it  to 
the  service  of  the  common  welfare.  This  is  compatible 
with  either  private  or  public  ownership. 

Here  we  may  note  the  absurdity  of  the  idea,  which  is 
often  put  forth  at  the  present  time,  that  we  are  shut  up 
to  the  alternatives  either  of  endorsing  the  present  eco- 
nomic system  or  of  accepting  some  form  of  communistic 
socialism.  Nothing  so  hinders  the  rational  and  ethical 
solution  of  our  economic  problems  as  the  presentation  of 
such  a  dilemma  as  the  final  word  of  social  science.  Noth- 
ing, too,  could  be  more  absurd  than  such  a  statement,  be- 
cause neither  system  has  any  adequate  scientific  support. 
The  present  economic  system,  as  we  have  seen,  represents 


KELIGION  AND  ECONOMIC  LIFE        227 

a  stage  of  economic  life  which  in  many  respects  more 
nearly  corresponds  to  barbarism  than  to  true  civilization, 
while  communistic  socialism  is  an  impossible  system  in 
any  society  with  a  complex  industrial  organization.  Both 
modern  capitalism,  as  it  exists,  and  communistic  socialism 
are  highly  unscientific.  It  would  be  nearer  to  the  truth 
to  say  that  social  science  indicates  a  hundred  possibilities 
between  these  two  extremes  rather  than  to  say  that  it 
endorses  either. 

What,  then,  are  the  changes  which  are  needed  to  bring 
our  economic  system  more  nearly  into  line  with  the  prin- 
ciples of  social  science?  First  of  all,  the  principle  upon 
which  our  economic  life  is  based  must  be  changed  from 
one  of  rights  and  privileges  to  one  of  functions  and  obli- 
gations. Social  functions  and  social  obligations  must  be- 
come the  supreme  guiding  principles  in  economic  life  as 
in  other  phases  of  social  life.  Social  rights,  as  we  have 
said,  must  be  regarded  not  as  primary,  but  as  secondary 
to  social  functions  and  springing  from  the  latter.  "Men 
must  regard  themselves,"  says  Professor  Tawney,  "not  as 
the  owners  of  rights,  but  as  trustees  for  the  discharge  of 
functions  and  the  instruments  of  social  purpose." 

In  other  words,  the  service  of  humanity  must  be  made 
the  end  of  the  economic  life.  Society  cannot  be  healthy 
in  its  business  and  industry  until  this  principle  is  recog- 
nized. Upon  it  directly  rests  the  great  principle  of  re- 
ward which  should  control  all  business  and  industry, 
namely  that  remuneration  should  be  based  upon  service 
rendered, — service  not  merely  to  one  or  a  few  but  to  so- 
ciety at  large.  This  principle  in  its  individual  applica- 
tion is  already  generally  recognized  in  our  economic  life. 
But  individual  selfishness  has  construed  it  to  mean  service 
1  The  Acquisitive  Society,  p.  51. 


228     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

to  one  or  a  few.  In  other  words,  a  regime  of  individual- 
ism has  permitted  an  individualistic  definition  of  "service 
rendered"  and  hence  its  social  perversion.  Social  utility 
and  individual  utility  are  not  always  convertible  terms, 
economic  analysis  has  shown ;  but  it  is  social  utility  which 
determines  social  values;  and  hence  individuals  in  their 
economic  life  must  be  willing,  if  they  possess  the  social 
spirit,  to  let  society  determine  what  is  a  "service  ren- 
dered" and  what  its  just  remuneration.  This  is  undoubt- 
edly the  trend  in  our  economic  life  at  the  present  time, 
and  we  only  need  to  hasten  the  process.  Instead  of  per- 
mitting economic  remuneration  for  catering  to  men's 
vices,  for  sharp  practices  or  mere  cunning  shrewdness,  for 
violence  or  fraud,  it  is  evident  that  society  should  permit 
remuneration  only  for  creative *  labor  and  for  saving ; 
and  that  individuals  with  a  socialized  conscience  should 
seek  wealth  only  through  creative  labor  and  through  sav- 
ing. 

Until  we  have  a  society,  however,  made  up  of  indi- 
viduals seeking  to  gain  wealth  only  through  creative 
labor  or  through  saving,  rather  than  seeking  to  attain 
it  through  chance  or  privilege  or  the  opportunity  to 
drive  a  bargain,  we  shall  fail  to  secure  an  economic  life 
which  is  just  or  in  harmony  with  scientific  principles. 
Society,  to  be  sure,  should  do  everything  possible  to  make 
it  difficult  for  men  to  secure  economic  rewards  through 
chance  or  privilege  or  opportunities  to  drive  hard  bar- 
gains, but  even  more  it  should  do  everything  possible  to 
encourage  creative,  or  productive,  labor  and  to  reward  it. 
If  it  follows  out  far  enough  the  principle  of  rewarding 
creative  labor,  it  will  automatically  discourage  attempts 
to  secure  money  through  sharp  practices.  The  entire 

1  "Creative"  is  here  used  in  the  sense  of  "productive."  Routine 
labor  in  this  sense  is  creative,  since  it  is  productive  of  social  values. 


KELIGION  AND  ECONOMIC  LIFE        229 

order  of  society  should  be  such  as  to  encourage  creative 
labor  by  all  who  are  able  to  work.  Especially  should 
social  religion  find  in  creative  labor  the  primary  and 
most  elemental  form  of  human  service  and  honor  it  as 
such.  Its  social  dignity,  whether  it  be  of  a  material  or 
of  a  spiritual  nature,  must  be  constantly  affirmed,  and 
idleness  in  every  social  class  condemned. 

Saving,  too,  is  a  service  rendered  to  society,  of  a  con- 
servative rather  than  a  creative  sort,  and,  in  spite  of  all 
ideas  to  the  contrary,  equally  entitled  to  economic  reward, 
though  the  reward  to  creative  labor  in  a  society  which 
hopes  to  be  progressive  must  be  kept  proportionately 
larger.  All  human  progress,  however,  rests  upon  the 
accumulation  of  economic  goods  as  well  as  upon  the  ac- 
cumulation of  knowledge  and  good  will.  All  waste  in 
human  society  is  a  waste  of  life,  while  all  saving  and 
conserving  makes  possible  the  further  upbuilding  of  life. 
The  ethical  legitimacy  of  interest,  considered  as  a  social 
reward  for  personal  saving,  can  be  questioned  only  by 
those  who  fail  to  appreciate  the  positive  function  of  sav- 
ing as  a  form  of  social  service  in  economic  life.  This 
does  not  justify,  of  course,  the  living  off  of  interest  re- 
ceived from  the  savings  of  others,1  which  we  so  frequently 
find  in  modern  society.  That  is  a  more  complex  question 
which  we  will  touch  upon  later,  when  we  consider  the 
use  of  "findings"  in  society.  It  is  sufficient  at  present 
to  point  out  that  in  a  right-minded  society,  individuals 
will  seek  their  economic  income  chiefly  in  two  ways :  first, 
through  creative,  or  productive,  labor;  and  secondly, 

1  Nor  what  Professor  Small  calls  the  "absentee  types  of  income"  so 
frequently  associated  with  modern  capitalism  (i.e.,  the  receipt  of 
income  from  capital  with  no  business  responsibility  or  service  on 
the  part  of  the  owner  of  the  capital ) . 


230     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

through  interest  received  from  personal  savings  invested 
in  private  business  or  in  public  enterprise. 

Equally  important  with  these  principles  of  distribution, 
is  the  spirit  of  co-operation  in  service  in  our  economic 
life.  If  all  business  and  industry  are  for  the  sake  of 
the  service  of  the  common  welfare,  then  employer  and 
employee  are  co-partners  in  that  service.  Labor  should 
not  be  regarded  as  a  "commodity"  any  more  than  the 
directing  ability  of  the  employer  should  be  so  regarded. 
It  would  be  truer  to  the  facts  to  regard  both  as  co-partners 
or  collaborators  in  the  common  task  of  production.  Both 
co-operate  in  a  common  service,  and  the  service  is  not  ren- 
dered simply  or  even  chiefly  to  each  other,  but  rather  to 
society  at  large.  If  the  spirit  of  co-operation  for  the 
service  of  the  common  weal  could  dominate  our  business 
and  industry,  conflicts  of  employer  and  employee  would 
be  minimized  and,  with  the  more  scientific  organization  of 
industry  upon  a  basis  of  social  justice  to  all  parties, 
might,  in  time,  entirely  disappear.1 

So    much    for    the    general    ethical    principles    which 

1  Among  the  many  employers  throughout  the  world  who  are  putting 
such  principles  to  practical  and  successful  test,  no  one  ia  perhaps 
more  conspicuously  successful  than  Mr.  B.  Seebohm  Rowntree,  British 
Quaker  manufacturer  and  well-known  student  of  industrial  conditions. 
Mr.  Rowntree  lays  down  three  fundamental  principles  which  should 
control  in  the  relation  of  employer  and  employee: 

( 1 )  "Industry  must  create  and  develop  fellowship.   Any  practices 
calculated  to  destroy  such  fellowship  are  immoral." 

(2)  "Every  individual  is  of  intrinsic  worth,  and  human  labor 
cannot  be  considered  a  commodity." 

(3)  "Industry  must  consider  among  its  first  charges  the  provision 
of  an  income  sufficient  to  maintain  in  reasonable  comfort  all  who 
engage  in  it;  provision  for  special  burdens  to  which  those  who  engage 
in  it  may  be  subjected;  provision  for  superannuation;  provision  for 
health    conditions,    development    of    personality,    talents,    and    self- 
expression.  " 

See  his  book,  The  Humcvn  Factor  in  Business. 


EELIGION  AND  ECONOMIC  LIFE        231 

should  guide  in  our  economic  life.  Many  would  hold 
that  social  religion  cannot  go  further  than  to  lay  down 
such  general  principles.  But  surely,  social  knowledge 
is  far  enough  advanced  to  indicate  also  some  concrete 
practical  steps  toward  the  realization  of  these  prin- 
ciples. In  the  first  place,  it  is  evident  that  if  we  wish 
the  co-operative  spirit  to  dominate  in  our  economic 
life,  we  should  do  all  we  can  to  encourage  private 
co-operative  enterprise.  The  end  of  free  society  is  surely 
in  learning  the  principles  of  social  co-operation,  and  vol- 
untary co-operation  must  be  the  first  step.  By  such  co- 
operation in  private  business  and  industry  a  people  may 
learn  how  to  undertake  and  carry  through  public  enter- 
prises in  a  co-operative  way.  Voluntary  co-operation  in 
private  enterprises  is,  to  some  extent,  probably  necessary 
education  for  the  successful  conduct  of  co-operative  public 
enterprises.  Public  ownership  should  be  looked  forward 
to  as  the  normal  development  of  the  co-operative  spirit 
in  all  communities,  at  least  in  lines  of  business  and  in- 
dustry which  are  suited  for  public  ownership. 

Just  at  present,  economists  seem  rather  agreed  that 
public  ownership  is  apt  to  be  successful  only  in  those 
industries  which  have  been  reduced  more  or  less  to  rou- 
tine, which  require  little  initiative,  or  which  for  public 
reasons  may  be  more  conveniently  conducted  by  public 
than  by  private  agencies.  But  the  range  of  industries 
which  may  be  successfully  carried  on  through  public 
co-operative  enterprise  may  obviously  increase  with  the 
increasing  intelligence  and  good  will  of  the  whole  society. 
Moreover,  through  the  progress  of  science,  many  busi- 
nesses and  industries  may  in  time  be  reduced  to  routine, 
which  now  apparently  require  great  individual  initiative 
and  the  pioneering  of  exceptional  ability.  It  would  be  a 
rash  man,  therefore,  who  would  place  limits  upon  public 


232     THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

ownership  and  public  co-operative  enterprise.  Our  gen- 
eral social  principle  of  maximizing  co-operation  in  society 
would  seem  obviously  to  imply  the  maximization  of  co- 
operative public  enterprise  also.  The  safe  principle  in 
our  present  stage  of  social  and  economic  development 
would  seem  to  be  to  retain  both  private  and  public  own- 
ership according  to  the  needs  and  convenience  of  society 
at  large,  hedging  private  ownership  about,  however,  with 
such  safeguards  and  regulations  as  will  gradually  educate 
and  train  the  whole  mass  of  the  people  to  carry  on  their 
economic  life  co-operatively  through  public  organizations. 
Such  education  for  the  successful  undertaking  of  co- 
operative public  enterprises  will  automatically  result  if 
a  larger  measure  of  democracy  is  introduced  into  the 
present  organization  of  industry.  Democracy  in  industry 
is  a  step  toward  public  co-operative  enterprise,  and  is 
indeed  the  only  basis  upon  which  public  ownership  and 
management  would  be  tolerable.  Now  democracy  in  in- 
dustry, as  in  the  social  life  generally,  means  fraternity, 
good  will,  and  the  equality  and  freedom  which  are  neces- 
sary to  realize  fraternity.  It  is  in  line  with  that  prin- 
ciple of  co-partnership  which  we  spoke  of  above.  But 
concretely,  it  means  that  employees  have  some  voice  in 
the  conduct  of  the  business  and  some  control  over  the 
conditions  under  which  they  work.  It  means  that  a  given 
industrial  group  is  not  ruled  autocratically,  but  by  the 
opinion  and  will  of  the  whole  group.  Various  concrete 
methods  have  been  devised  to  bring  this  about,  such  as 
shop  committees,  industrial  councils  and  the  like;  but  the 
obviously  important  thing  is  the  spirit  of  democracy  and 
fraternity  in  both  employer  and  employees. 

By  concrete  measures  which  will  encourage  private  co- 


KELIGION  AND  ECONOMIC  LIFE        233 

operative  enterprise,  public  ownership  and  management 
where  practicable,  and  the  more  democratic  organization 
of  business  and  industry,  modern  society  can  enter  upon 
a  deliberate  policy  of  maximizing  co-operation  in  its  eco- 
nomic life.  If  it  is  going  to  minimize  hostility  and  con- 
flict, however,  it  must  enter  also  upon  a  general  policy  of 
equalizing  opportunity  for  all.  For  the  equalizing  of 
opportunity  is  of  the  very  essence  of  a  democratic,  Chris- 
tian organization  of  the  economic  life.  It  should  be  pos- 
sible for  every  child  born  in  a  rightly  organized  society 
to  have  equal  opportunity  with  every  other  child  of  de- 
veloping the  best  that  is  in  him  and  of  demonstrating  his 
real  social  worth.  Such  equality  of  opportunity  is  obvi- 
ously difficult  to  achieve  in  practice,  but  it  must  be  un- 
weariedly  striven  for  by  a  society  which  aims  at  social 
justice,  and  it  is  the  mark  which  distinguishes  a  liberal, 
democratic  organization  of  society  from  the  various 
Utopias  based  upon  some  kind  of  benevolent  autocracy. 
Yet  to  keep  equality  of  opportunity  in  the  economic  life 
has  been  found  to  be  next  to  impossible  under  our  present 
laws  for  the  acquisition  and  inheritance  of  property. 
Those  laws  must  certainly  be  modified  if  we  wish  to 
achieve  equality  of  opportunity  and  to  preserve  it. 

But  before  we  speak  of  necessary  modifications  in  pres- 
ent laws  and  institutions,  let  us  guard  ourselves  against 
the  error  of  thinking  that  equality  of  opportunity  means 
the  establishment  of  dead-level  equality  in  society.  On 
the  contrary,  equality  of  opportunity  implies  the  possi- 
bility of  inequalities  developing  between  individuals,  and 
especially  in  regard  to  economic  reward.  What  equality 
of  opportunity  does  is  to  give  every  one  a  fair  chance  and 
allow  individual  ability  and  merit  to  manifest  themselves 
without  any  hampering  artificial  conditions.  Equality  of 


234     THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

opportunity  will  throw  the  individual  more  on  his  own 
resources  and  not  permit  special  privilege  to  make  success 
for  some  and  to  deny  it  to  others.  It  is  therefore  a  fur- 
ther step  in  the  rational  development  of  individual  respon- 
sibility and  of  personality.  But  from  equality  of  oppor- 
tunity we  must  expect  that  inequalities  will  develop;  for 
different  individuals  with  different  abilities  will  make 
different  use  of  their  opportunities  and  achieve  results 
of  very  unequal  social  value.  But  these  inequalities  will 
be  the  result,  not  of  artificial  social  conditions,  but  of  the 
different  uses  which  individuals  voluntarily  make  of  their 
equal  opportunities.  The  passion  for  equality,  then, 
should  not  be  confused  with  the  passion  for  justice  in 
social  and  economic  life.  If  we  are  just  we  shall  wish 
different  degrees  of  social  merit  to  be  differently  rewarded. 
We  shall  wish,  not  equality  of  reward,  but  equality  of 
opportunity. 

What  concrete  measures  in  addition  to  the  development 
of  co-operation  and  democracy  in  industry  will  work 
toward  the  equalizing  of  opportunities  in  our  social  and 
economic  life  ?  Obviously,  the  measures  which  have  been 
devised  by  scientific  social  workers  to  minimize  the  in- 
equalities which  result  from  ignorance,  sickness,  unem- 
ployment, low  wages,  hereditary  physical  defects,  accident, 
old  age,  and  death.  All  of  these  matters  are  more  or  less 
subject  to  social  control.  For  example,  so  many  inequali- 
ties of  opportunity  spring  from  our  educational  system 
that  if  we  want  equality  of  opportunity,  obviously  we 
must  devise  an  educational  system  which  will  give  every 
child  an  equal  chance  in  education,  regardless  of  the  eco- 
nomic status  of  its  parents  or  guardians.  Concretely,  it 
should  be  as  easily  possible  for  the  poor  child  of  ability 
to  get  even  the  highest  university  training  as  for  the  child 


KELIGION  AND  ECONOMIC  LIFE        235 

born  in  the  most  fortunate  economic  surroundings.  Edu- 
cation should  be  made  available  in  proportion  to  abilities 
shown  by  students  rather  than  in  proportion  to  the  wealth 
of  parents  or  guardians. 

Again,  if  we  wish  equality  of  opportunity,  conditions 
of  public  health  must  be  equalized.  The  health  of  the 
poorest  child  should  be  protected  not  less  than  the  health 
of  the  child  born  in  the  richest  family,  and  the  conditions 
and  hours  of  labor  of  the  poorest  class  of  workers  should 
be  kept  strictly  in  harmony  with  the  laws  of  their  physical 
well-being.  The  wage  worker  must  also  be  protected 
against  unemployment  and  its  dangers.  The  surplus 
profits  of  periods  of  prosperity  should  be  made  available, 
through  systems  of  saving  and  insurance,  to  tide  the 
worker  over  periods  of  industrial  depression.  The  same 
thing  should  be  done  to  meet  the  crises  in  wage-earning 
families  occasioned  by  sickness,  accident,  old-age,  and 
death.  In  general,  industry  should  furnish  the  worker 
adequate  protection  in  every  precarious  situation;  it 
should  be  made  safe  for  the  worker  and  develop  rather 
than  lessen  his  manhood.  Therefore,  wages  below  the 
standard  necessary  for  a  decent  living  for  the  worker  and 
his  immediate  family  should  not  be  tolerated.  Indeed, 
every  community  should  maintain  a  minimum  standard 
of  welfare  for  all  its  citizens  beneath  which  it  should  suf- 
fer none  to  fall  as  long  as  its  total  resources  are  adequate 
to  meet  the  need.1  All  of  these  measures  are  within  the 

aThi8  is  the  "first  pillar"  in  the  justly  celebrated  "Report  on 
Reconstruction"  of  the  British  Labor  Party.  (See  The  New  Republic, 
February  16,  1918,  or  Ward,  The  New  Social  Order,  Chapter  VII.) 
The  other  three  "pillars"  of  the  new  social  order  were: 

(2)  The  Democratic  Control  of  Industry. 

(3)  A  Revolution  in  National  Finance,  that  is,  the  system  of 
taxation. 

(4)  Use  of  the  Surplus  Wealth  of  the  Nation  for  the  Common 
Good. 


236     THE  KECONSTKUCTIOISr  OF  KELIGIOJST 

limits  of  the  economically  possible  and  should  receive  the 
support  of  humanitarian  religion. 

If  the  principles  and  measures  which  have  just  heen 
set  forth  could  become  incorporated  in  our  economic  life 
and  system  of  industry,  while  perfect  equality  of  oppor-f 
tunity  might  not  be  realized,  it  would  be  approached.1; 
Certainly  the  glaring  inequalities  of  our  present  social 
order — avast  wealth  for  the  few  and  insufficiency  for  the 
many;  luxuries  for  the  rich  with  miserable  hovels  and 
insufficient  food  often  for  the  poor;  idleness  for  the  few 
and  excessive  hours  of  toil  for  the  many; — frequent 
subordination  of  the  well-being  of  the  many  to  the  finan- 
cial profits  of  a  few'7 — all  these  things  would  disappear. 
Industrial  poverty — poverty  resulting  from  economic  con- 
ditions rather  than  from  weakness  in  individual  character 
— would  be  gradually  abolished  and  prosperity  diffused 
among  all  classes.  It  is  no  exaggeration  to  say,  as  Pro- 
fessor Carver  says,  that  "we  need  not  have  poverty  in 
our  midst  a  generation  longer  than  we  want  it,"  *  pro- 
vided, of  course,  we  are  willing  to  bear  the  cost  of  the 
scientific  measures  necessary  for  its  abolition. 

Even  the  staggering  costs  of  the  great  war  have  prob- 
ably not  made  it  impossible  to  extend  economic  justice 
and  prosperity  thus  to  all  classes  if  we  will  take  thought 
and  develop  the  right  social  attitudes.  Unless  humanity's 
resources  are  crippled  by  further  wars  and  class  conflicts, 
probably  the  most  advanced  nations  of  Europe  and 
America  could  abolish  poverty  within  a  generation  or  so. 
For  ours  is  still  a  dynamic,  expanding  economic  life  which 
is  not  yet  near  the  limits  of  its  resources.  There  is  still 
an  economic  surplus  accruing  to  many  through  the  dis- 
covery and  development  of  new  material  resources  and 

1  Principles  of  Political  Economy,  p.  583. 


KELIGION  AND  ECONOMIC  LIFE        237 

of  latent  capacities  in  men,  as  well  as  through  the  increase 
of  our  numbers  and  the  multiplication  of  world  contacts. 
Hence  to  many  in  such  a  society  come  economic  gains 
which  are  not  the  result  of  their  creative  labor  or  of  their 
saving,  but  which  have  been  made  for  them  by  the  cir- 
cumstances of  social  and  economic  development.  Thus 
enormous  fortunes  accrue  to  a  few  individuals,  who  are 
happily  circumstanced  and  have  business  shrewdness, 
from  what  economists  call  natural  monopolies,  from  the 
rise  of  land  values  through  the  increase  of  population, 
and  from  unexpected  social  emergencies.  These  "find- 
ings," as  we  may  call  them,  which  come  from  a  combina- 
tion of  circumstances  and  business  shrewdness,  are  greatly 
increased  through  our  laws  of  inheritance  which  permit 
the  passing  along  of  this  property  almost  intact  from  gen- 
eration to  generation.  Such  inheritance  of  property  from 
a  previous  generation  is,  of  course,  a  "finding"  for  the 
generation  that  receives  it.  Evidently  no  ethical  social 
question  could  be  of  more  practical  import  at  the  present 
time  than  the  question  what  attitude  individuals  and 
society  should  take  toward  such  "findings" — that  is, 
toward  wealth  which  has  come  to  individuals  as  a  result 
neither  of  creative  labor  nor  of  personal  savings. 

On  the  side  of  the  individual,  it  would  seem  that  if 
the  principle  be  accepted  at  all  that  property  should  be 
held  as  a  trust  from  society,  then  the  individual  should 
feel  that  this  principle  holds  doubly  in  the  case  of  wealth 
which  comes  into  his  hands  as  the  result  neither  of  his 
personal  labor  nor  of  his  personal  saving.  He  should  rec- 
ognize that  such  income  is  a  result  of  no  effort  of  his  own 
and  belongs  in  a  peculiar  sense  to  society,  from  which  he 
receives  it  in  trust  for  the  common  welfare.  On  the  side 
of  society,  it  would  seem  that,  while  it  may  be  generally 
convenient  to  leave  a  large  part  of  these  "findings"  in 


238     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

the  hands  of  private  individuals,  yet  obviously  when 
social  emergencies  exist,  this  unearned  wealth  should  be 
the  first  to  be  drawn  upon  through  taxation  to  meet  social 
necessities.  "Taxes,"  says  Professor  Shenton,  "are  a  con- 
tribution which  an  individual  or  a  corporation  makes  for 
the  public  good."  *  Now,  while  taxes  should  be  levied 
to  some  extent  upon  personal  earnings  and  savings,  be- 
cause all  should  contribute  to  the  public  good,  yet  obvi- 
ously they  should  be  levied  according  to  the  ability  of 
individuals  to  contribute,  and  hence  should  be  levied  much 
more  heavily  upon  "findings"  than  upon  "earnings,"  as 
the  recipients  of  the  former  are  usually  much  more  able 
to  make  contributions  to  the  public  good.  This,  as  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  is  the  policy  at  the  present  time  of  all  the 
more  advanced  nations  of  the  world. 

Hence,  if  it  be  asked  where  society  will  get  the  funds 
necessary  to  carry  out  the  program  for  general  social 
amelioration  and  the  equalizing  of  opportunity  which  we 
have  sketched,  the  answer  is  that  such  funds  should  be 
drawn  in  the  main  from  the  economic  "findings"  which 
happen  to  drop  into  the  hands  of  individuals,  or  in  plain 
terms,  from  taxes  upon  inheritances,  upon  all  monopolies 
of  natural  resources  including  monopoly  land  values,  and 
upon  excessive  incomes  whether  derived  from  interest  or 
speculative  profits.2  The  proper  adjustment  of  such  taxes 
so  as  to  promote  general  social  well-being  is  a  matter  for 
experts  to  decide,  but  that  they  can  be  so  adjusted  all 
experts  in  taxation  agree.  The  chief  point  for  us  to  note 
is  that  in  these  three  great  sources  of  public  revenue, 
through  taxation  upon  "findings,"  there  are  ample  funds 
to  carry  out  within  one  generation  or  two  any  reasonable 

1  Christian  Aspects  of  Economic  Reconstruction,  p.  23. 
1  For  elaboration  of  the  importance  of  taxation  as  a  means  of 
social  reconstruction,  see  The  Social  Problem,  Chapter  IV. 


KELIGION  AND  ECONOMIC  LIFE        239 

program  for  the  betterment  of  the  social  and  economic 
condition  of  the  masses,  provided  of  course  that  such 
funds  are  not  squandered  by  corrupt  governments,  by  un- 
scientific attempts  at  social  amelioration,  or  by  foolish 
conflicts  between  classes,  nations,  or  races.  Such  a  pro- 
gram is  easily  within  the  limits  of  the  socially  practicable 
and  has,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  been  entered  upon  by  the. 
most  advanced  communities  in  the  modern  world.  Thus 
through  scientific  taxation,  wealth  and  opportunity  might 
become  far  more  justly  distributed  in  our  society,  and  as 
we  have  already  said,  if  supplemented  by  other  scientific 
measures,  poverty  might  be  wiped  out  within  one  genera- 
tion or  two. 

However,  before  any  such  utilization  of  the  economic 
surplus  of  society  for  the  common  welfare  could  become 
general  the  whole  attitude  of  the  possessing  classes  toward 
wealth  and  toward  their  fellow  human  beings  must  be 
changed.  There  lies  the  fundamental  difficulty.  As  long 
as  economic  possessions  are  valued  more  highly  than 
human  lives,  so  long  it  will  be  impossible  to  put  on  a 
program  of  social  and  economic  justice  in  society  at  large. 
What  is  needed,  and  what  social  religion  should  under- 
take to  get  recognized,  is  a  socialized  ethics  of  the  expendi- 
ture and  use  of  wealth.  We  have  already  spoken  of  the 
ethics  of  acquiring  wealth.  Equally  important  is  the 
ethics  of  spending  wealth. 

The  first  legitimate  use  of  wealth  is,  of  course,  that  of 
self-maintenance  and  the  maintenance  of  one's  immedi- 
ate family,  because  self-support  is  after  all  the  first  eco- 
nomic service  which  any  one  is  called  upon  to  render  to 
society.  The  second  legitimate  use  of  wealth  should  be 
to  contribute  to  the  common  welfare,  especially  through 
submitting  to  taxation  to  meet  public  needs.  The  third 


240     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

legitimate  use  of  wealth  should  be  to  use  it  for  the  de- 
velopment of  private  business,  that  is,  of  private  produc- 
tive enterprises  which  will  increase  the  prosperity  of  the 
whole  community.  The  fourth  legitimate  use  of  wealth 
is  for  private  gifts  and  benevolences  to  help  others,  and 
especially  to  promote  worthy  causes  which  work  for  the 
public  good,  such  as  private  philanthropy,  private  educa- 
tional enterprises,  and  above  all,  religious  and  moral 
movements.  If  there  is  any  legitimate  place  in  the  use 
of  wealth  for  private  luxury  and  self-indulgence  in  a 
socialized  scheme  of  ethics,  it  must  come  fifth  and  last. 
But  it  is  exactly  to  this  last  use  that  a  very  considerable 
portion  of  the  surplus  wealth  of  most  modern  nations,  and 
especially  of  the  United  States,  is  devoted  according  to 
the  most  careful  calculations.1 

If  it  were  not  for  the  waste  of  wealth  in  luxury  and  in 
self-indulgence,  a  sin  of  practically  all  social  classes,  we 
should  have  ample  funds  not  only  for  religion  and  edu- 
cation, art  and  science,  but  for  wiping  out  poverty  and 
all  the  gross  inequalities  which  exist  in  modern  society 
within  a  comparatively  short  time.  Hence  the  funda- 
mental need  of  our  society,  after  all,  is  more  socialized 
standards  of  economic  consumption,  or,  in  other  words, 
of  the  expenditure  of  money.  Yet  few  would  disagree 
that  some  such  order  of  expenditure  as  that  just  outlined, 
should  be  observed.  Indeed,  it  is  practically  the  order 
enforced  by  law  when  social  emergencies  occur.  Self- 
maintenance  comes  first,  but  luxury  and  self-indulgence 

1  According  to  government  returns  given  out  by  the  Federal  Bureau 
of  Education,  the  people  of  the  United  States  spent  for  luxuries  in 
1920,  $22,700,000,000,  or  more  than  one-third  their  total  income.  For 
tobacco  alone,  nearly  as  much  was  spent  as  for  education  and  religion 
combined,  and  its  total  cost  in  one  year  was  more  than  all  that  has 
been  paid  out  by  the  people  of  the  United  States  for  higher  education 
in  273  years.  See  School  Life  for  April  1,  1921. 


KELIGION  AND  ECONOMIC  LIFE        241 

come  last  in  every  code  for  the  expenditure  of  wealth 
which  society  can  afford  to  recognize.  Hence  again,  it  is 
evident  that  social  obligation  in  the  use  of  wealth  is  the 
fundamental  principle  which  must  he  recognized  in  any 
attempt  to  transform  our  economic  system. 

We  have  sketched  no  impossible  Utopia  but  only  the 
goal  towards  which  the  best  economic  thinking  in  our 
civilization  is  moving.  Practically  all  such  thinking 
agrees  that  we  need  an  economic  system  which  will  put 
human  values  first,  which  will  emphasize  economic  obli- 
gations rather  than  economic  rights,  which  will  maximize 
co-operation  both  along  private  and  along  public  lines, 
which  will  equalize  opportunity,  and  finally  which  will 
make  private  wealth  a  trust  held  for  public  good.  Yet 
these  conclusions  of  our  best  social  and  economic  think- 
ing, after  all,  are  not  different  in  essence  from  the  prin- 
ciples laid  down  by  Jesus  in  his  dealing  with  economic 
questions.  He  did  not  speak  of  rights,  but  of  obligations. 
He  had  regard  only  to  the  human  values.  He  emphasized 
that  the  first  use  of  possessions,  after  self-maintenance, 
if  not  equally  with  it,  was  to  help  others  and  to  promote 
all  worthy  causes.  Finally,  we  may  say  that  his  whole 
thought  of  wealth  centered  on  the  idea  that  it  was  a  trust 
for  which  the  individual  was  to  be  held  strictly  account- 
able to  God  and  administer  for  the  benefit  of  his  fellow- 
men.1  These  may  be  very  simple  and  elementary  prin- 
ciples, but  our  civilization  has  evidently  not  yet  been  able 
to  realize  them  in  its  economic  life;  or  rather  it  has  not 
seriously  tried  to  realize  them.  Yet  modern  science,  we 
see,  has  come  to  practically  the  same  conclusions.  It 

1  The  reader  cannot  do  better  than  consult  for  the  elaboration  and 
application  of  Christian  principles  in  industry,  the  report  of  the 
Committee  on  the  War  and  the  Religious  Outlook  on  The  Church  and 
Industrial  Reconstruction,  published  in  1920. 


242      THE  KECONSTKUCTIOST  OF  KELIGION 

might  be  well,  then,  if  the  modern  world  would  emphasize 
the  economic  aspect  of  the  religion  which  it  professes. 
It  is  at  least  safe  to  say  that  no  economic  disaster  will 
come  to  our  world  through  following  out  the  ethical  eco- 
nomic principles  taught  by  Jesus.  Some  of  the  possessing 
classes  apparently  fear  these  principles,  because  they  see 
that  the  result  of  their  application,  even  though  it  may 
mean  the  extending  of  justice  and  prosperity  to  all,  will 
be  the  diminution  of  their  own  wealth  and  privileges. 
On  the  other  hand,  social  disaster  will  inevitably  come  if 
we  much  longer  attempt  to  conduct  our  business  and  in- 
dustry upon  the  pagan  principles  which  have  been  so  much 
in  vogue  in  our  economic  life.  Here  again,  then,  the 
findings  of  social  religion  and  of  social  science  are  prac- 
tically the  same;  hence  there  is  no  longer  excuse  if  these 
two  fail  to  work  together  for  the  redemption  of  our  eco- 
nomic life. 


CHAPTER  IX 

RELIGION  AND  POLITICAL  LIFE 

A  RELIGION  adapted  to  the  needs  of  modern  life  must 
have  a  positive  and  unequivocal  doctrine  concerning  those 
relations  of  men  to  one  another  within  nations,  and  of 
nations  to  one  another  which  we  term  "political."  Social 
religion  must  fearlessly  oppose  the  pagan  idea  of  the  state 
and  all  forms  of  political  immoralism,  because  if  organized 
authority  in  society  does  not  recognize  itself  as  bound  by 
moral  principles,  we  can  scarcely  expect  that  individuals 
will  do  so.  If  the  very  principle  of  organization  in  society 
is  itself  immoral,  such  as  the  principles  of  force  and 
expediency,  it  is  idle  to  think  that  the  conduct  of  indi- 
viduals will,  as  a  rule,  rise  to  any  higher  level. 

Social  organization  and  social  control  are  two  of  the 
most  pervasive  influences  in  the  lives  of  men,  and  their 
chief  expression  is  in  political  life  and  institutions. 
Group  organization  is  the  chief  means  by  which  the  indi- 
vidual functions  in  social  life,  and  group  control  is  the 
chief  social  means  of  determining  individual  character. 
Now,  above  all  lesser  groups,  next  to  humanity  itself, 
stands  the  political  state  or  nation.  In  our  present  world, 
indeed,  it  is  the  highest  controlling  group.  If  immoral 
principles  are  tolerated  in  the  form  of  its  organization 
and  control,  then  a  Christian  social  order  is  impossible. 
Religion  has  vast  issues  at  stake  in  political  questions,  as 
indeed  the  Great  War  made  evident.  It  should  be  one 
of  its  first  tasks  to  secure  among  men  such  political  or- 

243 


244     THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

ganization  as  will  make  possible  a  normal  life  character- 
ized by  good  will  and  co-operation,  peace  and  security. 

Yet  notoriously  the  political,  like  the  economic  life,  has 
remained  divorced  from  religion  and,  even  in  the  most 
Christian  nations,  relatively  pagan  down  to  the  present 
time.  Over  a  generation  ago,  the  late  Professor  Lester 
F.  Ward  said,  "In  politics,  we  are  still  in  the  Stone  Age," 
and  his  statement  seems  almost  as  true  to-day  as  when  it 
was  uttered.  From  Machiavelli's  time  to  the  present,  as 
we  have  seen,1  we  have  had  our  political  life  controlled 
largely  by  the  pagan  principle  that  the  end  of  the  state, 
and  even  of  political  action  within  the  state,  is  power.  By 
the  single  end  of  gaining  or  holding  power,  whole  nations, 
as  well  as  political  parties  within  nations,  have  sought  to 
justify  their  conduct.  Fear  and  force  are  still  the  main 
reliances  of  the  state  in  international  relations,  and  often 
even  in  internal  government.  Thus  the  pagan  state  sur- 
vives in  our  world,  not  merely  as  an  idea,  but  as  a  fact. 
It  is,  indeed,  perhaps  the  most  challenging  fact,  next  after 
our  pagan  industrial  system,  which  confronts  social  re- 
ligion to-day. 

Even  when  Machiavellian  principles  are  not  openly 
avowed  in  politics,  political  conduct  is  frequently  divorced 
entirely  from  religion.  It  is  said  that  the  political  be- 
longs to  the  secular  and  should  not  be  under  the  control 
of  the  religious.  There  results  the  politics  of  self- 
interest,  which  while  it  may  not  be  as  starkly  pagan  as 
Machiavellian  politics,  yet  works  to  the  same  end.  Indi- 
viduals in  such  a  system  act  politically  according  to  their 
self-interest,  or  according  to  individual  expediency.  Self- 
interest,  however,  usually  coincides  with  some  class  in- 
terest, and  so  politics  becomes  a  struggle  of  classes  for 

1  See  Chapter  IV. 


EELIGION  AND  POLITICAL  LIFE        245 

power.  Under  such  circumstances,  politics  and  govern- 
ment become  an  expression  of  contending  selfish  interests 
and  men  lose  faith  in  government  and  law,  because  they 
seem  to  represent  only  the  triumph  of  the  selfishness  of 
one  class  over  the  selfishness  of  another  class.  Thus  re- 
spect for  all  law  and  government  is  undermined. 

Still  more  disastrous  results  are  seen  in  the  relations 
between  nations.  If  moral  principles  are  not  binding  in 
those  relations,  then,  as  so  many  German  publicists  said 
before  the  Great  War,  there  can  only  be  etiquette,  but  no 
morality,  between  nations.  Consequently,  it  is  impossible 
for  a  state  to  transgress  the  moral  law  in  its  relations  with 
other  states.  War  and  conquest  are  thus  justified  and 
become  inseparable  from  international  relations.  It  seems 
incredible  that  such  monstrous  doctrines  could  be  sanc- 
tioned by  civilized  peoples;  yet  we  know  that  until  very 
lately  they  were  openly  sanctioned.  Even  when  not 
openly  sanctioned,  they  were  often  secretly  acted  upon. 
However,  the  doctrine  that  the  chief  end  of  international 
politics  is  commercial  success  is  morally  no  higher,  and 
it  has  had  very  similar  results.  For  this  end  the  exploita- 
tion of  smaller  and  weaker  nations  has  been  brought  about 
by  various  forms  of  intimidation  or  intrigue  which  have 
been  called  "diplomacy."  Such  standards  have  been  so 
prevalent  in  the  past  that  our  whole  political  life,  national 
and  international,  has  been  essentially  pagan  and  well 
calculated  to  increase  suspicion,  hostility,  and  conflict 
among  classes  and  nations.  This,  as  we  have  already  seen, 
was  the  profound  cause  of  that  great  convulsion  which 
shook  our  world  from  1914  to  1918,  and  which  has  left 
European  civilization  shattered  and  uncertain. 

Evidently  we  have  been  trying  to  live  under  an  un- 
sound political  system,  a  system  which  is  far  from  mini- 


246     THE  KECCXNSTKUCTKOT  OF  EELIGIOIST 

mizing  hostility  and  conflict  among  classes  and  nations. 
Manifestly  we  need  a  system  which  will  maximize  co- 
operation among  the  nations  as  well  as  between  classes 
within  the  nations.  We  need  a  political  life  built  upon 
a  different  principle  than  power  as  the  end,  and  which 
shall  use  different  methods  than  fear  and  force.  Good 
will  should  replace  fear,  and  understanding  should  take 
the  place  of  force.  But  this  cannot  be  as  long  as  group 
selfishness  dominates  political  life.  If  we  are  to  maximize 
co-operation  between  nations  and  classes,  the  whole  spirit 
of  our  political  life  must  be  changed.  Instead  of  a  poli- 
tics of  power  or  of  self-interest,  we  must  have  a  politics 
of  service.  In  other  words,  we  need  a  politics  which  will 
recognize  the  service  of  humanity  as  its  end.  This  end 
must  be  sought,  of  course,  through  the  highest  and  best 
development  of  each  individual  nation,  and  even  of  all 
the  classes  within  each  nation.  Such  politics  is  not  in- 
consistent with  the  highest  patriotism,  because  loyalty  to 
humanity  does  not  weaken  loyalty  to  country,  when  the 
end  of  national  existence  itself  becomes  the  service  of 
humanity.  Patriotism  and  humanitarian  religion  may  in 
time  thus  blend  and  become  practically  indistinguishable, 
though  at  present  they  may  so  often  seem  to  be  in  con- 
tradiction to  one  another.  A  true  nationalism  and  a  true 
internationalism  are  not  opposed. 

What  sort  of  political  organization  will  further  best  the 
co-operation  of  nations  and  classes  and  work  for  the 
highest  and  best  development  of  all  individuals,  classes, 
and  nations?  Such  an  organization  manifestly  would 
have  to  appeal  to  the  hopes  and  stimulate  the  aspirations 
of  all  men.  It  would  have  to  recognize  the  full  rights  of 
the  common  man  as  a  member  of  society.  It  could  rec- 
ognize no  artificial  distinctions  of  caste  or  class,  of  race 


KELIGION  AND  POLITICAL  LIFE        247 

or  blood,  but  would  have  to  recognize  the  potentially  equal 
social  worth  of  each  man,  and  assign  to  each  his  position 
in  accordance  with  his  personal  merits.  It  would  have 
to  aim  at  substantial  equality  of  rights  and  opportunities 
for  all  classes  of  men.  Such  a  political  system  would  aim 
at  the  welfare  of  all  and  not  of  any  special  class  or  group. 
Its  ultimate  aim,  indeed,  could  be  nothing  less  than  an 
adequate  life  for  all. 

Yet  such  a  political  system,  if  it  is  practicable,  could 
not  be  imposed  upon  society  from  above  or  without.  It 
would  have  to  grow  up  from  within,  from  the  will  of  every 
member  of  the  political  group.  Superimposed  benevo- 
lence cannot  reconcile  men  to  one  another  nor  develop  the 
highest  and  best  within  them.  That  is  possible  only 
through  mutual  understanding,  the  free  exchange  of  ideas 
and  ideals,  and  the  free  formation  of  a  common  or  group 
will.  Hence  a  political  system  which  aims  at  the  welfare 
of  all  must  give  the  will  of  every  adult,  intelligent  person 
a  share  in  the  making  of  the  common  will  of  the  group. 
This  means  that  the  group  becomes  self-governing,  self- 
determining,  and  not  only  the  group,  but  every  individual. 
Men  must  be  free,  as  well  as  equal  in  right,  in  such  a 
political  organization.  And  this  sort  of  political  organi- 
zation is  called  a  "democracy." 

Such  a  social  and  political  system  is  the  only  remedy 
for  those  class  divisions,  distrusts,  and  misunderstand- 
ings which  threaten  to  tear  our  civilization  asunder.  It 
alone  can  reconcile  men  to  one  another,  because  it  recog- 
nizes the  worth  of  each  man,  counts  each  as  one,  and  en- 
lists the  interest  and  will  of  each  for  the  good  of  the 
whole.  It  alone,  through  the  free  exchange  of  ideas,  the 
interpenetration  of  mind  and  mind,  the  free  formation 
of  a  common  opinion  and  will,  brings  understanding  and 
sympathy  between  classes  and  puts  their  co-operation  upon 


248     THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  BELIGION 

a  voluntary  basis.1  It  alone  is  capable,  therefore,  of 
warding  off  class  strife  and  preventing  revolutions  of 
violence.  Finally,  it  alone  can  reconcile  the  nations,  be- 
cause it  postulates  equality  of  right  between  nations  and 
seeks  co-operation  through  understanding  and  good  will. 
Such  democracy  is  not  an  idle  dream,  though  it  be  a 
dream  which  the  peoples  of  Western  civilization  have 
been  dreaming  already  for  a  century.  With  its  emphasis 
upon  fraternity,  and  upon  the  equality  and  liberty  which 
are  necessary  for  fraternity,  democracy  is  evidently  the 
same  movement  in  the  social  and  political  realm  as  Chris- 
tianity in  the  ethical  and  religious  realm.2  The  religion 
of  Jesus,  as  we  have  seen,  is  essentially  an  attempt  to  take 
the  sentiments,  affections,  and  values  which  are  naturally 
characteristic  of  the  family  and  universalize  them,  mak- 
ing them  the  standard  of  social  practice  for  all  men  in  all 
their  relations  with  one  another;  while  democracy  is  an 
attempt  to  carry  over  from  the  family  and  the  neighbor- 
hood the  "patterns"  of  fraternity,  equality,  and  liberty, 
furnished  by  these  primary  groups,  to  the  wider  social 
and  political  life.  Hence,  the  democratic  movement  has 
the  same  social  and  psychological  roots  as  social  religion. 
The  two  movements  have  many  things  in  common.  Their 
ideals  are  essentially  similar  and  derived  from  the  same 
source.3 

1  Among  the  many  writers  who  have  set  forth  these  ideas,  Hobhouse 
(Liberalism)  ;  Mecklin  (An  Introduction  to  Social  Ethics)  ;  and  Mis.s 
Follott  (The  New  State)  especially  deserve  mention.  Professor 
Mecklin's  book,  in  particular,  discusses  democracy  as  "the  solution 
of  the  social  problem,"  showing  how  essential  democracy  harmonizes 
social  relations  in  the  family,  the  church,  the  school,  and  the  factory, 
as  well  as  in  the  state.  Miss  Follett's  book  is  an  aouto 


psychological  analysis  of  the  democratic  social  process,  showing  how 
it  involves  the  interpenetration  of  minds  and  the  creation  of  a  group 
mind. 

•  See  Cooley,  Social  Organisation,  Chapter  V. 

•  Compare  Chapter  III. 


RELIGION  AND  POLITICAL  LIFE        249 

Now,  as  we  noted  in  the  very  first  chapter  of  this  book, 
one  of  the  reasons  for  the  failure  of  existing  religion  is 
its  failure  to  become  adjusted  to  democracy.  We  should 
expect  a  close  alliance  between  religion  and  democracy  in 
modern  society.  To  a  considerable  extent  this  is  what  we 
find.  Nevertheless,  the  cases  of  maladjustment  between 
them  are  almost  as  striking  as  those  between  religion  and 
modern  science.1  Conventional  religion,  of  course,  ap- 
proves of  democratic  forms  of  government  so  far  as  they 
have  been  developed  in  countries  where  they  are  already 
established.  Yet  the  conventional  Christianity  of  church 
members  too  often  seems  to  fear  the  program  of  democ- 
racy when  it  comes  to  the  relations  of  classes,  nations,  and 
races.  Existing  religion,  too  frequently,  has  no  vision  of 
democracy  in  these  relations.  It  tolerates  great  gulfs  be- 
tween economic  classes,  between  nations,  and  between 
races.  It  may  be  very  strenuous,  as  it  is  in  some  denomi- 
nations, regarding  a  democratic  organization  within  the 
church;  but  it  may  be  very  indifferent  toward  the  rights 
of  the  common  man  and  toward  the  great  question  of  sub- 
stantial equality  of  rights  and  opportunities  in  society 
for  all  men. 

Yet  it  should  be  evident  that  the  democratic  movement 
in  the  modern  world  is  as  much  the  natural  ally  of  social 
religion  as  is  social  science.  Modern  democracy  is  essen- 
tially a  movement  to  realize  the  ideals  of  social  religion; 
and  all  genuine  social  religion  is  necessarily  a  religion 
of  democracy.  If  religion  is  sufficiently  developed  on  the 
social  side,  it  will  furnish  the  dynamic  which  will  make 
possible  the  realization  of  democracy.  It  will  foster  the 
sympathy,  understanding,  and  good  will  between  indi- 

1  A  brief  statement  of  these  maladjustments  was  mado  by  the  writer 
in  a  paper  read  before  the  American  Sociological  Society  in  1919  on 
Religion  and  Democracy  (Vol.  XIV  of  the  Proceedings). 


250     THE  EEOONSTEUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

viduals,  classes,  nations,  and  races,  which  are  necessary 
for  the  working  of  democracy.  It  will  not  fear  to  put  on 
a  program  of  justice  and  fraternity  between  races,  nations, 
classes,  and  in  social  life  generally. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  democratic  movement  should 
find  its  natural  ally  in  social  religion ;  for  democracy  pre- 
supposes social  religion  and  is  unrealizable  without  it. 
Inasmuch  as  the  democratic  spirit  is  unwilling  to  recog- 
nize the  artificial  distinctions  of  class,  race,  or  other  ex- 
ternal conditions,  it  is  plain  that  it  pre-supposes,  as  an 
ethical  axiom,  that  all  men  are  brothers  and  are  equal  in 
rights.  Thus  democracy,  in  the  modern  sense  of  the 
word,  is  an  achievement  of  humanitarian  civilization  and 
its  fate  is  bound  up  with  the  progress  of  humanitarian 
religion  and  ethics.  Or  rather,  must  we  not  go  still  fur- 
ther and  say  that  democracy  is  an  aspiration,  a  social  and 
political  ideal,  which  is  unrealizable  except  as  we  develop 
a  Christian  world?  True  democracy  was  born  from 
social  religion,  especially  from  the  religion  of  Jesus,  and 
its  fate  is  bound  up  with  that  of  social  religion.  "The 
democratic  movement,"  says  Professor  Cooley,1  "in  so  far 
as  it  feels  a  common  spirit  in  all  men,  is  of  the  same 
nature  as  Christianity."  For  its  harmonious  working, 
even  when  imperfectly  developed,  democracy  requires 
more  good  will,  more  social  intelligence  and  character  in 
the  individual,  than  any  other  form  of  government  or 
society.  It  requires,  therefore,  that  social  values  be 
brought  to  the  individual  in  the  intensest  way.  That  is, 
it  requires  the  help  of  social  religion.  An  irreligious, 
atheistic,  materialistic  democracy  might  be  possible  for  a 
time,  but  in  our  complex  society,  it  could  have  no  chance 
of  success  in  the  long  run. 

1  Social  Organization,  p.  203. 


RELIGION  AND  POLITICAL  LIFE        251 

If  the  substantial  identity  of  the  ideals  of  democracy 
and  humanitarian  ethics  be  conceded,  then  it  is  evident 
that  democracy  will  be  realized  in  proportion  as  the  ideals 
of  social  religion  are  realized.  Both  are  not  only  prac- 
ticable, but  indispensable  for  our  civilization.  The  con- 
trol of  social  life  by  custom  or  by  coercive  authority  is  no 
longer  practicable  in  a  dynamic  civilization  like  ours. 
Though  custom-ruled  and  authoritarian  societies,  some- 
times mistakenly  called  "democracies,"  have  characterized 
the  history  of  the  world  from  the  earliest  times  down  to 
the  present,  yet  this  does  not  show  that  they  are  adapted 
to  present  needs.  Our  world  is  entering  upon  a  new  stage 
of  social  evolution  as  we  have  tried  to  show,  a  stage  of 
awakened  social  consciousness,  of  higher  social  and  ethical 
ideals,  of  true  civilization;  and  the  aspiration  for  democ- 
racy, for  a  new  and  freer  form  of  social  control,  is  coin- 
cident with  this  new  stage  of  social  evolution.  The  peo- 
ples of  the  world  are  dissatisfied  with  the  old  authoritarian 
forms  of  social  life,  and  are  groping  toward  a  new  and 
higher  form  of  society. 

Authoritarian  control  sprang  originally  from  the  con- 
quest of  one  group  by  another,  and  so  is  unsuited  to  a 
world  that  is  trying  to  rid  itself  of  the  ethics  of  barbarism. 
Hence,  surviving  autocracy  in  the  forms  of  government, 
of  industry,  and  of  social  life  generally  occasions  much 
of  the  unrest  of  the  present.  Authoritarian  control  is  an 
anachronism  in  the  modern  world.  Human  society  must 
find  a  new  basis  for  its  own  control.  That  new  basis  is 
in  the  rational  like-mindedness,  the  intelligent  purpose 
and  will  of  its  individual  members.  It  must  seek  its 
unity  not  through  coercive  authority,  but  through  the  sym- 
pathetic understanding  and  intelligent  purpose  of  the 
whole  population.  The  untrammeled  opinion  and  will  of 
every  adult  member  of  society  must  be  given  a  share  in 


252     THE  BECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

the  determination  of  social  policies  and  institutional 
forms.  This  is  the  new,  experimental  phase  of  social  life 
upon  which  we  have  already  entered.  We  cannot  turn 
back.  We  must  go  on  to  perfect  a  democratic  social  and 
political  life,  or  we  must  fail  altogether. 

We  should  not  wish  to  turn  back;  for  democracy  is 
bound  up  with  the  attainment  of  all  our  higher  personal 
and  social  ideals.  A  self-conscious,  self-determining  civi- 
lization is  necessarily  democratic;  for  the  essence  of 
democracy  sociologically,  as  a  form  of  social  control,  is 
that  it  is  an  attempt  to  do  for  the  group  what  organic 
evolution  has  already  done  for  the  individual :  to  let  it  be 
ruled  freely  by  its  own  mind.  Just  as  in  the  developed 
individual,  the  mind  directs  and  controls,  so  in  a  demo- 
cratic group  or  society,  the  social  or  public  mind — that 
synthesis  of  all  the  individual  minds  active  in  the  group 
— directs  and  controls  group  behavior.  We  say  that 
democracy  is  "the  rule  of  public  opinion."  And  this  is 
correct ;  but  public  opinion  is  nothing  but  the  synthesis 
of  individual  judgments.  Again,  we  say  that  democracy 
is  "the  rule  of  the  popular  will" ;  but  the  popular  will  is 
nothing  but  the  co-ordination  and  co-operation  of  the 
active  wills  of  the  individual  members  of  the  group.  A 
society  is  democratic  just  in  the  proportion  that  the 
opinion  and  will  of  every  individual  in  the  group  is  free 
to  count  in  the  determination  of  group  policies  and  con- 
duct. Democracy,  therefore,  means  the  development  of 
personality  as  well  as  of  social  life. 

However,  just  as  we  begin  to  perceive  the  outlines  of 
that  free  and  self-determining  society  at  which  modern 
civilization  is  aiming,  and  which  we  have  agreed  to  call 
"democracy,"  we  begin  also  to  see  its  difficulties  and  dan- 
gers. While  autocratic  forms  of  social  organization  and 


EELIGION  AND  POLITICAL  LIFE        253 

control  will  no  longer  work  in  our  world,  yet  the  demo- 
cratic forms  are  so  untried  and  so  dependent  upon  the 
development  of  personality  in  individuals  that  their  suc- 
cess is  still  a  matter  of  uncertainty.  If  they  are  to  suc- 
ceed, democratic  societies  must  attain  to  a  new  level  of 
development  of  intelligence  and  character  in  the  mass  of 
their  individual  members.  Obviously,  democratic  control 
may  be  ignorant  and  brutal,  if  public  opinion  is  unin- 
formed, irrational,  or  biased  by  selfish  interests.  For 
public  opinion,  let  us  remember,  is  simply  the  result  of 
the  co-ordination  of  individual  opinions.  If  individuals 
remain  ignorant  and  selfish,  the  group  opinion  and  the 
group  will  cannot  be  otherwise,  and  social  disaster  must 
follow.  There  is  no  magic  in  numbers;  neither  can  we 
safely  trust  "the  goodness  of  human  nature."  If  democ- 
racy is  not  to  result  in  disaster,  it  will  be  only  because  it 
becomes  a  conscious  achievement  built  upon  the  adequate 
development  of  personality  in  the  mass  of  individuals. 
Democracy  is  an  adventure  for  our  world  because  the  in- 
telligence and  character  in  individuals,  necessary  for  its 
success  still  remain  to  be  developed. 

That  the  future  of  democracy,  then,  depends  absolutely 
upon  the  social  and  political  education  of  the  masses  of 
the  people  is  obvious ;  for  vast  masses  of  men  cannot  form 
rational  opinions  and  execute  rational  social  decisions 
without  highly  developed  social  and  political  intelligence 
and  character  in  each  individual.  Democratic  societies 
thus  need  to  educate  every  individual  for  his  share  in 
the  work  of  social  control,  at  least  to  the  extent  of  enabling 
him  to  decide  wisely  and  unselfishly  between  competing 
policies  and  leaders.  To  a  greater  and  greater  extent,  no 
doubt,  this  social  and  political  education  may  be  imparted 
in  the  public  schools.  But  there  is  danger  here,  since 
stereotyped  and  ready-made  judgments  on  social  and  po- 


254   THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

litical  questions  can  never  be  adequate  for  intelligent 
social  control  in  a  dynamic  civilization.  The  intelligence 
and  education  which  democracy  demands  must  be  a  pro- 
gressive affair.  The  whole  people  must  be  continually 
informing  and  educating  one  another  regarding  the  social 
conditions  and  needs  of  every  portion  of  the  population. 
Consequently  democracy  depends  upon  freedom  of  inter- 
communication among  individuals,  upon  free  public  dis- 
cussion, a  free  press,  free  assemblage,  and  the  free  selec- 
tion of  public  policies  and  leaders,  not  less  than  upon 
good  social  character  in  individuals.  All  of  these  means 
of  public  education  of  the  masses  in  social  and  political 
matters  must  be  kept  alive  in  a  democracy;  for  the  inter- 
penetration  of  mind  by  mind  is  the  very  method  of  form- 
ing public  opinion  and  popular  will.  Moreover,  if  public 
opinion  is  to  become  highly  rational,  freedom  of  thought 
as  well  as  freedom  of  intercommunication  must  be  en- 
couraged. The  dependence  of  democracy  upon  these 
agencies, — schools  and  education,  free  speech  and  a  free 
press, — has  for  these  reasons  become  a  commonplace.  Yet 
all  of  these  things,  if  they  are  to  work  without  perver- 
sion, manifestly  imply  a  highly  socialized  character  in 
individuals.  They  imply  participation  in  the  higher 
social  values  by  the  mass  of  individuals.  Social  religion 
should  be  vitally  interested  in  them;  and  can  be  of  vital 
help  to  them. 

The  greatest  foe  of  democracy,  next  after  social  and 
political  ignorance,  is  the  unsocial  spirit,  whether  it  mani- 
fest itself  as  the  selfishness  of  individuals  or  of  groups. 
Indeed,  democracy  in  the  modern  sense,  depends  upon 
social  sympathy  and  good  will  quite  as  much  as  upon 
social  intelligence.  For  this  is  what  we  mean  largely  by 
a  socialized  character  in  individuals.  It  is,  at  this  point, 


KELIGIOJST  AND  POLITICAL  LIFE        265 

too,  that  the  absolute  dependence  of  modern  democracy 
upon  social  religion  emerges;  for  in  the  great  civilized 
nations  of  the  present,  the  good  will  which  is  merely  the 
spontaneous  expression  of  natural  impulse,  as  it  "was  in 
the  primitive  kinship  group,  will  not  suffice.  The  good 
will  which  modern  democracy  must  draw  upon  must  be 
an  ideal  creation.  It  must  spring  from  that  understand- 
ing and  sympathy  which  comes  from  the  deliberate  cul- 
ture of  altruistic  and  fraternal  sentiments  in  hetero- 
geneous populations.  This  "fraternal ism"  in  modern 
democracies  must  take  the  place  which  the  sentiment  of 
kinship  held  in  primitive  groups  as  the  foundation  of  sym- 
pathetic like-mindedness  and  unity.  Things  which  destroy 
sympathy,  understanding  and  good  will  in  populations 
are  not  less  menacing  to  democracy  than  things  which 
destroy  free  thought,  free  speech,  and  the  untrammeled 
expression  of  public  opinion.  The  growth  of  barriers, 
therefore,  that  obstruct  sympathy  and  understanding 
among  different  elements  of  a  nation  will,  in  the  long 
run,  be  just  as  fatal  to  its  democracy  as  the  growth  of 
institutions  limiting  the  free  interchange  of  ideas  and  the 
free  expression  of  popular  will.  Hence  democracies  need 
the  help  of  social  religion,  especially,  for  the  cultivation 
of  a  fraternal  spirit  among  their  members. 

Individual  selfishness  becomes  particularly  menacing 
to  democracy  when  it  assumes  the  form  of  exaggerated 
individualism.  In  America,  in  particular,  the  conception 
of  democracy  has  been  too  frequently  that  everybody 
should  be  allowed  to  do  as  he  pleases,  provided  that  he 
does  not  interfere  with  the  rights  of  other  individuals. 
Such  an  individualistic,  laissez-faire  democracy  rapidly 
destroys  the  sense  of  social  obligation,  leads  to  the  over- 
looking of  the  solidarity  of  the  interests  of  communities, 
encourages  lawlessness,  and  tends  eventually  toward 


256    THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

anarchy.  Even  when  it  does  not  go  so  far,  such  indi- 
vidualism hinders  social  organization  and  social  efficiency, 
and  so  discredits  democracy.  To  combat  such  a  danger, 
democracy  obviously  needs  the  help  of  social  religion.  It 
must  temper  the  liberty  which  it  preaches  by  a  religion 
of  social  obligation  and  of  social  solidarity. 

Group  selfishness  is  another  great  foe  of  democracy. 
Just  at  the  present  time,  it  is  perhaps  the  most  immedi- 
ately threatening  enemy  of  democratic  institutions.  There 
can,  at  least,  be  no  doubt  as  to  its  danger  to  democracy; 
for  nothing  destroys  social  sympathy  and  good  will  so 
quickly  as  group  egoism  and  group  conflicts.  Even  po- 
litical partisanship  which  goes  to  the  extent  of  destroying 
sympathy  and  hindering  co-operation  is  destructive  of 
democracy.  A  high  degree  of  social  tolerance  is  necessary 
for  democracy  to  work  at  all,  and  a  cordial  co-operative 
spirit  for  its  satisfactory  working.  In  a  true  democracy, 
accordingly,  minorities  and  majorities,  whether  they  be 
political  parties  or  economic  classes,  must  retain  a  tol- 
erant, if  not  a  fraternal  attitude.  Hence  in  a  democracy, 
there  must  be  no  absolute  rule  even  by  the  political  ma- 
jority. The  rights  of  minorities  must  always  be  respected, 
even  the  rights  of  the  single  "conscientious  objector"; 
for  democracy  pre-supposes  that  a  minority,  or  even  a 
single  individual,  has  a  right  to  convert  the  whole  group 
to  his  way  of  thinking,  if  he  can.  Otherwise,  it  denies 
its  principle.  True  democracies,  consequently,  are  never 
strong-handed  or  tyrannical  in  their  methods.  As  soon  as 
they  become  so,  they  convert  themselves  into  autocracies, 
because  they  shut  out  some  classes  or  individuals  from 
participating  in  the  formation  of  public  opinion  and  of 
popular  will.  This  does  not  mean  that  democracies  have 
to  tolerate  positive  wrong-doing  any  more  than  any  other 


BELIGION  AND  POLITICAL  LIFE        257 

form  of  society.  It  is  only  saying  that  by  their  very  prin- 
ciples, democracies  are  tolerant  toward  differences  of  in- 
terest or  of  opinion  among  their  members,  and  seek  a 
synthesis  of  these  differences  through  appeal  to  the  higher 
interests  of  the  community. 

How,  then,  can  democracy  combat  group  egoism  and  put 
an  end  to  the  selfish  aggression  of  parties  and  classes  ?  Only 
through  the  cultivation  of  tolerance,  sympathy,  and  under- 
standing between  all  the  parties  and  classes  which  make 
up  modern  complex  communities.  The  cultivation  of 
social  intelligence  through  enlightenment  regarding  social 
conditions  will  help  much.  But  before  a  socially  efficient 
imagination  can  bridge  the  misunderstandings  and  differ- 
ences of  interest  which  exist  among  the  parties  and  classes 
in  complex  societies,  there  must  be  systematic  cultivation 
of  social  sympathy  and  good  will.  Idealistic  social  ethics 
and  religion  must  come  in  as  the  ally  of  social  informa- 
tion if  we  wish  unfailing  fraternity  and  good  will  in  a 
large  population  with  many  diverse  interests.  The  selfish- 
ness of  individuals  and  of  groups  must  be  subordinated 
to  devotion  to  the  common  welfare,  and  such  an  idealistic 
devotion  must  for  the  mass  of  men  rest  upon  an  essen- 
tially religious  basis. 

All  this  becomes  clear  enough  when  we  see  class  aggres- 
sion and  class  conflict  actually  destroying  the  unity  of 
democratic  societies.  Then  we  perceive  that  it  is  lack  of 
sympathy  and  understanding  which  leads  one  group  to 
try  to  impose  its  will  upon  another.  Such  lack  of  sym- 
pathy and  understanding  may,  of  course,  spring  in  part 
from  mere  ignorance  and  illustrate  that  need  of  knowl- 
edge of  social  conditions  which  we  have  spoken  of  as  in- 
dispensable for  the  working  of  democratic  institutions. 
But  it  is  also  frequently  the  result  of  a  selfish  attitude  of 
one  group  toward  another,  and  illustrates  the  lack  of  social 


258    THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

good  will  in  society.  A  dominant  group,  for  example, 
which  possesses  power  and  privileges  not  infrequently 
refuses  to  give  up  any  part  of  these  to  meet  the  needs  of 
other  groups.  Here,  clearly,  it  is  the  non-fraternal  atti- 
tude of  one  group  toward  another,  the  lack  of  social  good 
will,  which  destroys  social  unity  and  breeds  conflict.  But 
as  we  have  already  seen,  when  in  society  there  is  the  open 
mind,  general  social  intelligence,  strong  social  sympathy, 
and  a  fraternal  attitude,  such  conflicts  between  classes 
become  practically  impossible.  Such  socially  developed 
democracy  is  manifestly  the  remedy,  as  we  have  already 
said,  for  the  class  conflicts  and  revolutions  of  violence 
which  threaten  our  world.  If  our  world  is  one  of  in- 
creasing class  conflicts,  it  is  only  an  indication  that  our 
democracy  is  still  very  imperfect. 

Here  we  have  to  note  the  principle  to  which  all  recent 
writers  on  democracy  call  frequent  attention;  and  that  is, 
that  it  is  impossible  to  sustain  democracy  in  our  political 
life  without  accepting  democracy  as  a  conscious  program 
for  all  other  phases  of  our  social  life  also.  If  our  in- 
dustry, our  religious  life,  our  family  life,  and  our  educa- 
tion are  non-democratic,  we  cannot  hope  to  sustain  democ- 
racy in  political  life;  for  government  rests  upon  these 
other  phases  of  the  social  life  as  its  foundation.  To  illus- 
trate: it  is  not  simply  that  poverty  prevents  the  normal 
development  of  intelligence  and  character  in  some  ele- 
ments of  a  population  which  makes  it  dangerous  to  democ- 
racy. It  is  even  more,  because  it  destroys  the  good  will, 
sympathy,  and  equality  which  are  essential  to  fraternal 
relations  in  a  population.  Again,  a  feudal  or  autocratic 
organization  of  industry  breeds  class  conflict  and  menaces 
political  democracy  because  it  destroys  good  will  and 
equality  of  opportunity.  It  is  the  lack  of  democracy  in 


KELIGION  AND  POLITICAL  LIFE        259 

our  industry  which  prevents  the  formation  of  a  common 
will  in  industrial  groups — the  only  possible  basis  for  the 
permanent  settlement  of  differences  between  employers 
and  employees.  Again  it  is  the  lack  of  democracy  in  the 
relations  between  races  which  is  the  chief  factor  in  breed- 
ing the  racial  antagonism  that  in  the  United  States  makes 
possible  race  riots  and  other  inter-race  maladjustments. 
Finally,  it  is  the  lack  of  democracy  in  our  intimate  social 
life  which  divides  our  society  into  strata,  cliques,  and 
circles,  characterized  by  little  understanding  and  sym- 
pathy and  hence  by  little  social  cohesion.  We  cannot 
make  political  democracy  a  success  without  democracy  in 
these  wider  social  relations.  Yet  political  democracy, 
itself,  exists  for  the  realization  of  this  larger  social  de- 
mocracy, or  else  it  has  no  meaning.  To  achieve  such  gen- 
eral democracy  in  all  the  relations  of  life,  we  evidently 
need,  to  accompany  and  sustain  it,  a  religion  of  democ- 
racy, of  social  idealism,  of  enthusiasm  for  humanity. 

Perhaps  the  deadliest  foe  of  all  which  democracy  has 
is  militarism,  the  use  of  armed  force  by  one  group  to  con- 
quer another  group.  This  is  the  absolute  negation  of  that 
social  good  will  which  we  have  said  is  one  of  its  necessary 
foundations.  It  is  a  commonplace  with  students  of  social 
history,  that  war,  through  all  the  ages,  has  been  one  of 
the  greatest  enemies  of  democracy.  All  of  the  autocracies 
of  the  world,  so  far  as  anthropology  and  sociology  can 
discover,  have  arisen  in  one  way  or  another  through  war. 
The  reason  is  not  difficult  to  discover.  Democracy,  in 
order  to  succeed,  requires  a  democratic  setting;  but  mili- 
tarism tends  toward  the  rule  of  force  and  toward  the  or- 
ganization of  society  on  a  basis  of  force  instead  of  upon 
a  basis  of  good  will  and  rational  likemindedness.  Even 
defensive  wars  have  more  than  once  resulted  in  the  sub- 


260    THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

version  of  democracy  both  in  government  and  in  society 
at  large.  Hence  democracy  stands  but  little  chance  of 
success  in  a  militaristic  world  organized  upon  the  basis 
of  armed  force.  National  autonomy  is  threatened  so  long 
as  there  is  not  established  international  equality  and  good 
will.  As  long  as  nations  have  to  arm  to  the  teeth  to  pro- 
tect themselves  from  aggression  by  other  nations,  no  na- 
tion can  give  proper  attention  to  its  domestic  questions; 
military  expenditures  will  eat  up  public  resources,  equal- 
ity of  opportunity  cannot  be  maintained,  and  democracy 
cannot  be  realized.  The  equal  rights  of  nations,  not  less 
than  of  individuals,  must  be  assured  if  democracy  is  to 
win  out. 

But  militarism  among  the  nations  cannot  be  ended  as 
long  as  their  relations  are  governed  by  the  pagan  princi- 
ples of  power  and  self-interest.  There  must  be  developed 
an  international  mind  and  conscience  which  will  demand 
justice  and  good  will  in  international  relations.  But  the 
equal  rights  of  nations  cannot  be  assured  if  international 
relations  remain  anarchic.  If  good  will  is  to  become  the 
basis  of  human  society,  it  must  be  organized  internation- 
ally as  well  as  within  national  groups.  Without  such 
organization,,  international  conscience  and  good  will  can- 
not become  effective.  The  triumph  of  democracy  is 
bound  up  with  the  triumph  of  a  democratic  interna- 
tionalism which  will  put  an  end  to  competitive  national 
armaments  and  to  the  rule  of  force  in  international  rela- 
tions. Peace,  social  and  international,  is  necessary  for 
the  safety  of  democracy;  and  for  this  reason  the  world 
must  be  federated,  organized,  for  peace. 

Yet  it  is  evident  that  no  Association  or  League  of  Na- 
tions based  upon  national  self-interest  and  force  can  give 
the  world  lasting  peace.  Peace,  in  order  to  endure  be- 
tween nations  as  between  individuals,  must  be  based  upon 


RELIGION  AND  POLITICAL  LIFE        261 

justice,  understanding,  and  good  will.  A  peace  cf  power 
and  self-interest  cannot  long  endure.  Our  world  must 
achieve  something  more  radical  than  a  League  of  Nations 
to  secure  lasting  peace.  It  must  give  up  the  spirit  of 
international  suspicion  and  selfishness;  it  must  develop  a 
spirit  of  international  co-operation  and  good  will.  If  the 
world  is  to  be  federated  for  peace,  there  must  he  cordial 
recognition  of  the  fact  that  all  the  nations  of  mankind 
constitute  hut  a  single  family,  with  the  real  identity  of 
interests  which  we  find  among  the  members  of  a  family. 
"Pagan"  states  which  recognize  only  their  own  self- 
interest  as  their  guide  cannot  possibly  form  such  a  union. 
Such  a  union  can  succeed  only  if  backed  both  by  world 
intelligence  and  by  an  active  international  good  will. 
Democratic  internationalism  is  possible,  in  other  words, 
only  if  social  religion  leads  the  nations  into  the  pathway 
of  international  justice  and  good  will.  Thus  again  we  see 
that  "the  healing  of  the  nations"  must  come  through 
humanitarian  religion,  transforming  our  politics  from  a 
politics  of  power  and  self-interest  to  one  of  the  service  of 
humanity.  Only  humanitarian  religion  can  do  this;  but 
with  the  establishment  of  its  ideals,  international  peace 
and  co-operation  will  no  longer  be  a  problem. 

The  democratic  movement,  then,  depends  for  its  final 
success  upon  the  development  in  our  social  life  of  all  those 
things  which  tend  toward  social  justice,  social  sympathy, 
understanding,  good  will,  and  peace.  It  is  only  through 
these  things  that  there  can  be  opportunity  for  the  full  de- 
velopment of  that  rational  likemindedness  upon  which  the 
success  of  democracy,  or  the  rule  of  public  opinion  must 
depend.  In  other  words,  to  develop  scientific  knowledge 
and  so  diffuse  its  influence  that  it  will  make  and  guide 
public  opinion  requires  the  co-operative  social  spirit — the 


262    THE  KECO^STEUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

spirit  of  justice,  good  will,  and  peace  in  human  relation- 
ships. And  this,  as  we  have  said,  requires  the  cultivation 
of  the  spirit  of  social  idealism  or  social  religion.  The 
association  of  democracy  and  social  religion  is,  then,  no 
accident.  "An  ideal  democracy/'  says  Professor  Cooley, 
"is  in  its  nature,  religious,  and  its  true  sovereign  may  be 
said  to  be  the  higher  nature,  or  God,  which  it  aspires  to 
incarnate  in  human  institutions."  * 

While  many  of  the  higher  ethical  religions  have  been 
favorable  to  democracy,  yet  no  religion  has  democracy  so 
inwoven  in  its  very  nature  as  Christianity  with  its  doc- 
trine of  the  fraternity  and  essential  moral  equality  of  all 
men.  Christianity  may  be  said  to  be  the  religion  of 
democracy  in  that  it  teaches  that  the  service  of  men,  even 
of  the  weakest,  is  the  service  of  God.  If  Jesus  was  not 
the  first  great  democrat,  he  has  been  the  great  teacher  of 
democracy  in  our  western  world  through  all  the  centuries. 
Even  the  most  hostile  and  bitter  critics  of  Christianity 
have  had  to  recognize  the  essential  democracy  of  Jesus' 
teachings.2  It  is  impossible  for  any  sane  man  to  impugn 
the  democracy  of  one  whose  test  of  greatness  and  of  worth 
was  the  service  of  all,  even  of  the  weakest.  Jesus  clearly 
had  not  only  the  ideal  of  a  democratic  society  but  the  ideal 
of  a  fraternal  democracy,  the  only  kind,  as  we  have  seen, 
which  will  work  in  the  long  run.  So  clearly  is  the  fraternal 
conception  of  democracy  set  forth  in  the  Gospels  that 
modern  writers  have  been  able  to  add  but  little  to  that 
conception. 

Just  as  in  the  chapter  on  the  economic  life,  we  found 
at  its  end  that  we  had  done  little  but  elaborate  the  ethical 
standards  of  Jesus  in  regard  to  wealth,  so  again  at  the 

1  Op.  cit.,  p.  205. 

•E.g.,  Nietzsche.  Edward  Carpenter,  who  certainly  cannot  be  ac- 
cused of  any  bias  in  favor  of  Christianity,  acknowledges  (Pagan  and 
Christian  Creeds,  p.  220)  its  "extraordinarily  democratic  tendency." 


KELIGION  AND  POLITICAL  LIFE        263 

end  of  this  chapter  we  find  that  we  have  done  little  hut 
elaborate  Jesus'  ideal  of  democracy.  Christians  who  take 
a  social  view  of  their  religion  at  all,  cannot  fail  to  see 
this,  and  its  corollary  that  the  realization  of  social  and 
political  democracy  is  an  essential  part  of  the  program 
of  Christianity.  This  has  often  been  denied;  and  the 
incident  in  which  Jesus  told  the  Jews  to  pay  their  taxes 
to  the  Koman  government  is  cited  to  show  that  Jesus  did 
not  mean  that  his  teachings  were  to  have  any  bearing 
upon  political  life.  But  this  is  surely  an  absurd  interpre- 
tation of  that  incident.  Whatever  Jesus  intended  to  teach 
on  that  occasion,  it  is  certain  that  he  did  not  intend  to 
teach  that  religion  was  to  be  divorced  from  the  political 
life. 

The  hunger  and  thirst  of  the  modern  world  after  democ- 
racy is  surely  a  hunger  and  thirst  after  the  kingdom  of 
God, — if  we  make  allowance  for  the  perversions  which  un- 
avoidably creep  into  all  great  movements.  The  most  hope- 
ful thing  in  the  social  and  political  life  of  our  day,  in 
other  words,  the  thing  which  shows  most  unmistakably 
the  influence  of  the  religion  of  Jesus,  is  the  democratic 
movement.  It  is  surely  time  that  religious  people  recog- 
nize that  a  fully  democratic  world  will  be  a  long  step 
toward  a  Christian  world;  and  on  the  other  hand,  those 
who  believe  in  democracy  should  recognize  that  democ- 
racy can  only  be  safe  in  a  world  which  has  Christian 
aims.  It  is  Christian  Democracy  which  must  ultimately 
solve  the  social  problem. 


:APTEK 


RELIGION  AND   SOCIAL   PLEASTJKE 

A  EELIQION  which  is  adapted  to  the  needs  of  human 
life  must  have  a  clear  and  uncompromising  doctrine  con- 
cerning social  pleasures  and  amusements.  Individual 
character  and  the  character  of  civilization  depend  quite 
as  much  upon  the  manner  of  spending  leisure  as  upon  the 
serious  work  of  life.  Not  serious  occupations,  indeed,  but 
play  and  amusement  too  often  have  the  preponderant  rolo 
in  determining  moral  character  in  the  young.1  Until  men 
learn  to  spend  their  leisure  nobly,  to  order  their  social 
pleasures  rightly  and  rationally,  it  is  idle  to  think  that 
they  can  develop  high  moral  character  as  individuals  or 
create  a  civilization  of  beauty  and  righteousness.  Hence. 
a  social  religion,  whose  chief  concern  we  have  seen  to  be 
the  making  of  men,  must  fearlessly  oppose  all  forms  of 
gocial  pleasure  which  degrade  and  brutalize  the  individual 
or  which  barbarize  the  standards  of  society.  It  must  fur- 
nish active  leadership  in  promoting  ennobling  forms  of 
gocial  pleasure. 

Social  welfare  is  endangered  by  all  forms  of  pleasure 
which  tend  to  subvert  or  undermine  the  higher  controls 
which  civilization  has  developed  over  individual  behavior. 
To  be  specific,  whatever  in  social  pleasures  and  amuse- 
ments weakens  the  family,  corrupts  morals,  sneers  at  re- 

1  "The  throe  master  forces,"  says  Professor  Ross,  "fixing  the  mun- 
dane welfare  of  human  beings  are  Work,  Living  Conditions,  and  Rec- 
reation" (in  R.  II.  Edwards,  Popular  Amutements,  p.  5.  This  book 
outlines  the  whole  problem  of  public  amusements  and  recreation  and 
contains  good  bibliograj  liies). 

264 


RELIGION  AND  SOCIAL  PLEASURE      2G5 

ligion,  binders  education,  or  tends  toward  the  defiance  of 
law  or  the  creation  of  race  and  national  prejudice,  delays 
the  realization  of  a  Christian  social  order,  and  should 
receive  the  fearless  condemnation  of  social  religion.  If 
social  religion  is  a  set  of  practical  attitudes  toward  prac- 
tical problems,  as  we  have  said,  then  there  is  no  more 
urgent  problem  in  our  society  than  the  securing  of  ethical 
forms  of  play  and  amusement. 

For  play  and  amusement  are  most  necessary  things  in 
our  social  life.  Upon  them,  not  less  than  upon  serious 
work,  the  whole  structure  of  higher  civilization  has  been 
built.  Through  play  and  amusement  the  young  get  not 
only  physical  and  mental  development,  but  also  a  very 
large  part  of  their  social  education.  Through  play  and 
amusement,  the  hard  work  of  life  is  rendered  tolerable 
for  adults.  The  need  for  relaxation  in  our  strenuous 
industrial  and  business  life  is  especially  intense.  Through 
play  and  amusement  the  adult  human  mind  gets  not  only 
much  of  its  essential  development  but  rest  and  refresh- 
ment, and  the  human  body,  also.  These  things  are  thus 
biological  as  well  as  social  necessities,1  and  hence  even 
in  the  briefest  outline  of  an  adequate  social  religion  must 
receive  considerable  attention.  Moreover,  their  possibili- 
ties in  the  development  of  human  social  life  have  not  yet 
been  thoroughly  explored.  There  is  good  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  when  we  have  mastered  the  creative  forces 
latent  in  play  and  amusement,  education  will  be  easier, 
social  life  more  joyful,  and  civilization  itself  more  hu- 
mane and  beautiful.  Social  religion  must  seek  to  control 
social  pleasures  so  that  they  will  work  in  this  socially  con- 
structive direction. 

1  An  admirable  brief  presentation  of  the  sociological  theory  of 
recreation  will  be  found  in  Ross'  Principles  of  Sociology,  Chapter  LIT 
(pp.  604-616). 


266   THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

Yet  notoriously,  social  pleasures  and  amusements  in 
our  civilization  have  continued  to  remain  on  the  pagan 
level.  Too  frequently  they  even  show  the  same  degrada- 
tion which  characterized  those  of  decadent  Home.  This 
may  he  due  in  part  perhaps  to  the  animal  impulses  of 
original  human  nature  which  well  up  in  all  of  us  and 
especially  in  the  young.  These  animal  impulses  hurry  us 
back,  when  over-stimulated,  to  the  barbarous  level  of 
behavior.  Original  human  nature,1  we  must  always  re- 
member, is  animal  nature.  While  there  is  no  scientific 
warrant  for  a  doctrine  of  original  human  depravity,  aa 
that  doctrine  has  been  ordinarily  understood,  yet  science 
reveals  that  the  original  nature  of  man  was  non-moral 
"because  it  was  an  animal  nature.  The  civilized  nature  of 
man  is  wholly  acquired,  and  is  acquired  only  by  intelli- 
gent effort  and  maintained  only  by  constant  vigilance. 
Hence  the  animal  impulses  of  man's  original  nature  under 
certain  conditions  favor  reversions  to  the  savage  and  bar- 
barous levels  of  behavior.  This  must  be  borne  in  mind 
when  we  consider  the  nature  of  the  amusements  which 
civilized  society  can  afford  to  approve.  Many  amusements 
in  our  present  society  cause  the  participants  to  lose  the 
control  which  civilization  has  put  upon  the  original  ani- 
mal impulses,  or  primitive  passions,  of  man.  Society 
cannot  afford  to  tolerate  this.  Social  sanity  requires  us 
in  all  the  relations  of  life  to  beware  how  we  release  these 
primitive  passions,  and  this  is  especially  true  in  our  social 
pleasures  and  amusements. 

But  the  greater  reason,  by  far,  for  the  prevalence  of 

1  Professor  Cooley  and  also  Professors  Park  and  Burgess  (in  their 
Introduction  to  the  Science  of  Sociology)  use  the  term  "human  na- 
ture" to  mean  the  nature  acquired  by  man  in  association  with  his 
fellows,  especially  in  the  primary  groups.  To  differentiate,  we  have 
used  the  term  "original  nature"  to  mean  the  inborn,  hereditary 
nature  of  man,  which  according  to  evolution  was  an  animal  nature. 


RELIGION  AND  SOCIAL  PLEASURE      2G7 

pagan  standards  in  the  social  pleasures  and  amusements 
of  our  present  civilization  is  the  survival  of  those  stand- 
ards in  our  social  habits  and  traditions.  As  we  have  seen, 
the  whole  tradition  of  our  civilization  has  remained 
largely  pagan  down  to  the  present  in  spite  of  the  nominal 
acceptance  of  Christianity.  Imbedded  in  the  very  heart  of 
our  civilization,  we  have  seen,  is  the  tradition  that  power 
and  pleasure  are  the  chief  ends  of  life,  a  tradition  char- 
acteristic of  barbarism.  Hence,  self-indulgence  and  the 
gratification  of  animal  appetites  and  impulses  in  socially 
destructive  ways  is  one  of  those  surviving  traditions  of 
barbarism  among  us  of  which  we  have  not  yet  been  able 
to  rid  ourselves. 

There  have  been  many  reasons,  of  course,  why  we  have 
be^n  unable  to  get  rid  of  this  tradition  and  put  our  stand- 
ards of  social  pleasure  and  amusement  on  a  Christian 
basis.  One  is  the  survival  of  the  other  traditions  of  bar- 
barism among  us  which  we  have  already  pointed  out,1  such 
as  autocracy,  militarism,  economic  exploitation,  and  the 
like.  Another  reason  is  that  the  tradition  of  barbarous 
self-indulgence  and  unsocial  gratification  of  animal  im- 
pulses and  appetites  has  become  associated  with  certain 
forms  of  economic  profit-making  which  deliberately  aim 
not  only  to  keep  alive  this  tradition,  but  to  make  it  domi- 
nate social  pleasure  and  amusement  in  general.2  It  is 
especially  commercialized  pleasures  and  amusements,  in 
other  words,  which  present  a  peculiarly  threatening  prob- 
lem in  our  civilization.  Too  often,  as  Miss  Addams  says, 
the  "Anglo-Saxon  city  has  turned  over  the  provision  for 

1  See  Chapters  III  and  IV. 

8  The  deeper  reason,  therefore,  for  so  many  apparent  reversions 
to  the  animal  level  in  social  pleasures  is  our  defective  social  sys- 
tem, especially  our  defective  social  control.  This  problem  is,  of 
course,  the  problem  of  the  whole  book,  but  see  especially  again  Chap- 
ters VII  and  VIII.  See  the  argument  beginning  on  page  268  also. 


268   THE  KECONSTKUCTIOJSr  OF  KELIGION 

public  recreation  to  the  most  evil-minded  and  most  un- 
scrupulous members  of  the  community  "  l 

We  should  beware,  however,  of  thinking  that  by  getting 
rid  of  the  element  of  private  profit  in  amusements  we 
"would  thereby  solve  the  problem  of  rational  social  pleas- 
ure. All  the  evidence  points  to  the  opposite  conclusion. 
Under  all  conditions  of  culture  individual  men  have  been 
prone  to  indulge  their  animal  appetites  at  the  expense  of 
society ;  and  we  know  of  no  social  state  in  which  this  tend- 
ency has  been  held  in  restraint  without  some  form  of 
social  discipline.  Wherever  social  discipline  has  decayed, 
riotous  forms  of  pleasure  and  amusement  have,  as  it  were, 
spontaneously  broken  forth,  probably  not  so  much  because 
of  original  human  nature,  however,  as  because  of  the  sur- 
vival, as  we  have  already  pointed  out,  of  certain  tradi- 
tions favoring  selfish  indulgence.  Yet  we  must  admit 
that  human  nature  with  its  animal  impulses  must  be 
favorable  to  these  traditions  of  selfish  indulgence,  or  else 
it  would  not  accept  them  so  readily. 

Here  then  we  see  the  real  reason  for  the  prevalence  of 
so  many  degrading  forms  of  pleasure  and  amusement  in 
the  modern  world:  it  is  the  decay  of  social  discipline. 
Anything  tJiat  favors  the  lowering  of  social  morale,  in  a 
word,  favors  to  some  extent  the  recrudescence  of  brutaliz- 
ing pleasures  and  amusements.  We  have,  to  some  extent, 
lost  our  social  morale,  because  in  the  new  and  complex 
world  in  which  we  live  old  forms  of  social  discipline  have 
proved  inadequate  and  have  decayed.  We  need  a  new  and 
higher  morale,  as  "we  have  already  pointed  out,2  to  meet 

1  The  Spirit  of  Youth  and  the  City  Streets,  p.  7.  The  conclusion 
of  Miss  Addams  that  proper  provision  for  rational  recreation  should 
be  a  public  function  is  one  to  which  practically  all  sociologists  and 
social  workers  would  aprec. 

'See  Chapter  II  and  Chapter  V. 


RELIGION  AND  SOCIAL  PLEASURE      269 

the  subtle  temptations  which  modern  life  with  its  wealth 
and  power  too  often  affords;  and  nowhere  is  this  need 
more  in  evidence  than  in  our  social  pleasures  and  amuse- 
ments. Our  world  presents  the  amazing  spectacle  of  more 
lives  offered  upon  the  altars  of  pleasure  than  upon  those 
of  war,  famine,  and  pestilence  combined.  The  lives  ut- 
terly ruined,  or  their  social  usefulness  at  least  destroyed, 
by  the  pursuit  of  foolish  pleasures  are  so  numerous  that 
no  attempt  is  made  to  keep  track  of  them.  Here  we  must 
reckon,  for  the  most  part,  the  victims  of  drink,  of  sexual 
immorality,  of  gambling,  and  of  many  other  low  forms  of 
sport  and  amusement.  The  wasted  energy  is  beyond  com- 
putation. Obviously  civilization  cannot  go  forward  with 
such  a  drag.  A  new  social  discipline  must  be  provided 
which  will  safeguard  the  young  and  the  adult  alike  from 
the  insidious  unsocializing  influences  of  low  forms  of 
pleasure  and  amusement.  In  part  this  social  discipline 
may  be  provided  by  purely  secular  education;  but  social 
religion,  as  we  have  seen,1  must  be  the  chief  reliance  in 
any  group  which  desires  to  maintain  a  high  social  morale. 
Hence  the  social  education  of  the  young  should  be  com- 
pleted and  crowned  by  an  adequate  religious  education  if 
we  expect  them  to  be  able  to  resist  the  temptations  to  low 
forms  of  pleasure  and  amusement  which  go  with  wealth 
and  leisure  as  well  as  with  poverty  and  overwork. 

It  will  be  at  once  objected  that  religion  has  conspicu- 
ously failed  as  a  means  of  securing  wholesome  and  ra- 
tional social  pleasures  and  amusements  in  the  past.  Re- 
ligion, it  may  be  said,  has  always  wrestled  with  this 
problem,  and  if  it  has  not  succeeded  in  the  past,  what 
right  have  we  to  think  that  it  will  be  of  any  help  for  the 
future?  Again  and  again,  to  use  the  Spanish  proverb, 

1  See  p.  179. 


270   THE  KECONSTKUCTIOJtf  OF  EELIGION 

"Human  nature  has  been  driven  out  with  a  broomstick 
and  has  come  back  with  a  pitchfork."  The  prohibitions 
and  taboos  which  religion  has  imposed  upon  social  pleas- 
ures and  amusements  have  proved  to  be  vain  and  have 
obscured  rather  than  clarified  the  problem.  The  reply  is 
that  obviously  the  religions  of  the  past,  while  right  in 
their  apprehensions  in  regard  to  social  danger  from  un- 
socialized  forms  of  pleasure  and  amusement,  have  not  been 
scientifically  guided ;  and  that  there  is  no  reason  to  argue 
that  because  undeveloped  religions  have  failed  in  solving 
this  problem  this  will  necessarily  be  the  case  with  a  fully 
developed  social  religion.  ]STo  doubt  the  religions  of  the 
past,  and  historical  Christianity  in  particular,  have  made 
the  mistake  of  taking  too  negative  an  attitude  towards 
social  pleasures  and  amusements.1  They  have  seen  their 
danger  and  have  gone  to  the  opposite  extreme  of  endors- 
ing asceticism,  which  we  may  define  as  the  doctrine  that 
all  the  animal  impulses  of  man  are  in  themselves  evil. 
Asceticism  does  not  help  to  solve  the  problem  of  social 
pleasure  and  amusement  because  it  gives  rise  to  an  almost 
entirely  negative  and  repressive  attitude  toward  these 
necessary  elements  in  a  normal  social  life.  A  social  re- 
ligion working  in  harmony  with  social  science  will  adopt 
towards  them  a  positive,  constructive  attitude. 

This  is  not  saying,  however,  that  a  social  discipline 
which  is  adequate  to  deal  with  this  problem  of  social 
pleasures  and  amusements  will  not  have  its  negative  and 
repressive  side.  This  is  involved  in  every  form  of  social 
control  over  every  phase  of  social  life,  or  else  there  could 
be  no  control.  Indeed,  social  science  with  its  doctrine  of 
social  control  over  all  the  conditions  of  life,  and  social 

1  Religious  people  have  often  forgotten,  to  borrow  a  phrase  from 
Miss  Addams,  "that  recreation  is  stronger  than  vice  and  that  recrea- 
tion nlone  can  stifle  the  lust  for  vice"  (The  Spirit  of  Youth  and  the 
City  Streets,  p.  20). 


RELIGION  AND  SOCIAL  PLEASUEE      271 

religion  with  its  ideal  of  a  perfected  human  society  point 
unquestionably  to  what  we  might  perhaps  all  agree  to  call 
a  Xew  Puritanism,  if  so  many  shallow  minds  did  not 
harbor  a  prejudice  against  the  word.  The  New  Puri- 
tanism which  is  bound  to  come,  if  social  progress  con- 
tinues, will  not  be  like  the  old  Puritanism,  which  was 
accused  of  taking  its  pleasures  sorrowf ully ;  but  it  will  be 
like  it  in  that  it  will  demand  the  purging  of  existing 
Christianity  from  its  pagan  elements  and  the  conforming 
of  personal  conduct  to  higher  spiritual  and  social  stand- 
ards. These  standards  for  the  New  Puritanism,  however, 
will  come  from  modern  science,  and  not  from  mistaken 
ascetic  ideals  of  life. 

A  single  illustration  will  suffice.  Science  is  determin- 
ing exact  standards  regarding  the  relation  of  alcoholic 
beverages  to  human  welfare.  When  these  standards  have 
been  determined,  unless  we  are  going  to  remain  in  a  bar- 
barous and  unscientific  stage  of  social  development,  they 
will  unquestionably  be  accepted  by  the  social  conscience 
and  enforced  by  the  standards  of  society.  People  may 
plead  for  alcoholic  beverages  as  much  as  they  please  on 
the  score  of  individual  liberty,  social  pleasure,  or  social 
congeniality.  Scientifically  determined  standards  are, 
nevertheless,  bound  to  rule  social  policies  in  regard  to 
alcoholic  beverages  sooner  or  later  if  social  progress  con- 
tinues. The  same  thing  must  be  said  regarding  those 
forms  of  pleasure  which  are  connected  with  sex. 

The  social  sciences  are  steadily  moving  forward  in  the 
determination  of  rational  social  standards  along  all  lines 
of  social  pleasure.  There  is,  indeed,  no  necessity  of  dis- 
cussing these  standards  here  at  length  and  in  detail.  The 
literature  of  the  social  sciences  affords  ample  discussions 
along  this  line,  and  we  can  expect  that  scientific  research, 
if  allowed  to  proceed,  will  establish  clear  social  standards 


272   THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF 


RELIGION 


regarding  all  forms  of  social  pleasure  and  amusement 
within  a  generation  or  two,  as  it  has  already  done  for  the 
use  of  alcoholic  beverages.  The  main  thing  to  insist  upon 
is  that  here  again  social  religion  must  work  with  social 
science  to  secure  rational  control  over  the  whole  of  human 
life  in  order  that  a  better  human  world  may  come  into 
existence. 

But  certain  general  principles  which  should  guide  us 
and  which  should  be  emphasized  by  social  religion  may 
be  pointed  out.  The  specific  standards  demanded  by  social 
science  for  the  control  of  social  pleasures  we  shall  not  dis- 
cuss; but  the  mere  general  principles  which  are  as  old 
as  humanitarian  ethics  and  religion,  need  constant  re- 
emphasis  if  religion  is  to  function  socially.  What  are 
these  principles  ?  We  may  lay  down  at  least  four,  which, 
however  much  their  specific  application  may  be  debated, 
would  be  unquestioned  by  sound  social  science  or  social 
religion. 

The  first  of  these  general  principles  which  should  guide 
us  in  deciding  what  social  pleasures  a  Christian  civilized 
society  can  afford  to  tolerate  is  that  pleasure  should 
always  be  recreative.  That  is,  social  pleasures  should  be 
such  as  to  build  up  body  and  mind.  They  should  rest, 
restore,  recreate.  One  of  the  severest  indictments  against 
many  of  the  social  pleasures  of  present  society,  as  we  have 
seen,  is  that  they  wear  out  body  and  mind,  sapping  the 
energies  of  those  who  engage  in  them.  Such  pleasures  of 
course  do  not  prove  truly  pleasurable  in  the  long  run. 
They  are  to  be  especially  condemned  because  they  de- 
stroy that  very  surplus  of  physical  and  spiritual  energy 
from  which  all  the  higher  achievements  of  civilization 
must  come.  Moreover,  they  are  wholly  unnecessary. 
There  is  an  abundance  of  simple  pleasures  which  restore 


KELIGION  AND  SOCIAL  PLEASUKE      273 

and  energize  both  body  and  mind.  Such,  for  example,  are 
outdoor  athletic  sports  when  rightly  conducted.  The  re- 
cent tendency  of  our  civilization  to  encourage  the  develop- 
ment of  athletics  and  of  outdoor  games  and  amusements 
is  undoubtedly  a  tendency  in  a  most  wholesome  direction. 
Especially  should  guided  and  supervised  play  for  children 
in  the  parks  and  playgrounds  of  our  large  cities  deserve 
the  hearty  commendation  and  support  of  all  socially 
minded  persons.1 

But  this  first  principle,  that  social  pleasures  should  be 
recreative  in  their  effects,  is  not  sufficient  for  us  as  a 
criterion  to  judge  whether  a  form  of  pleasure  is  adapted 
to  social  needs.  Pleasures  may  be  recreative  for  the  indi- 
vidual and  yet  harmful  to  social  welfare.  The  effects 
upon  others  must  always  be  taken  into  consideration,  even 
upon  the  weakest  member  of  society.  Social  obligation 
is  paramount  to  individual  interests  in  this  matter  of 
social  pleasures  as  well  as  in  all  other  matters.  Hence, 
our  second  principle  which  is  that  social  pleasures  should 
be  unselfish,  that  is,  controlled  by  a  sense  of  social  obliga- 
tion. After  all,  it  cannot  profit  us  in  the  highest  sense  to 
destroy  or  injure  others  in  order  that  we  may  have  pleas- 
ure. That  violates,  as  we  have  seen,  the  fundamental  law 
of  human  association.  Hence  social  pleasures  and  amuse- 
ments should  be  those  which  the  community  can  approve 
and  which  can  be  shared  by  all.  Accordingly  they  should 
be  open  and  public  so  far  as  possible,  and  free  of  access 
to  all. 

This  does  not  mean  that  social  pleasures  and  amuse- 
ments should  be  taken  out  of  the  home  but  rather  they 

1  Statistics  show  that  wherever  these  supervised  playgrounds  exist 
in  large  cities  there  has  been  a  marked  decrease  of  juvenile  delin- 
quency. 


274   THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

should  be  such  that  all  homes  may  participate  in  them. 
They  should  be  such,  moreover,  as  to  serve  the  welfare  of 
every  class  in  the  community  and  not  just  one  class.  They 
should  build  up,  in  a  word,  the  life  of  the  community,  of 
society,  of  humanity,  as  well  as  restore  the  body  and  mind 
of  individuals.  Selfish  pleasures,  like  exhausting  pleas- 
ures, are  unnecessary  and  short-sighted.  There  is  an  abun- 
dance of  pleasures  which  we  can  share  with  others  and 
which,  because  they  are  so  shared,  give  us  more  lasting 
pleasure  as  well  as  add  to  the  happiness  of  the  world. 

This  brings  out  the  third  principle  by  which  we  should 
judge  social  pleasures  and  amusements,  and  that  is  that 
they  should  be  educational.  We  mean  that  they  should 
tend  to  build  up  the  right  sort  of  social  character  in  indi- 
viduals. More  and  more  sociologists  are  coming  to  agree, 
we  have  noted,  that  the  best  way  to  judge  institutions  is. 
by  their  educative  effects  upon  human  personality.  Noth- 
ing would  do  so  much  to  straighten  out  the  problem  of 
social  pleasures  and  amusements  as  to  adopt  this  same 
criterion  for  judging  them ;  and  surely  a  society  which  is 
aiming  at  a  higher  culture  must  adopj  this  criterion.  Un- 
less pleasures  and  amusements  socialize,  develop  higher 
intelligence  and  character  in  individuals,  they  easily  be- 
come dangerous  to  higher  social  values.  Some  may  say 
that  if  all  social  pleasures  and  amusements  were  educa- 
tive, they  would  lose  their  recreational  value;  but  this  is 
not  so.  Plainly  athletics,  games,  music,  the  drama,  and 
all  other  legitimate  amusements  may  be  morally  educative 
and  yet  at  the  same  time  highly  recreational.  Indeed, 
creative  effort  itself,  while  always  highly  educational,  has 
been  found  to  be  entirely  consistent  with  proper  recreation 
for  both  children  and  adults.  AVe  notnl  to  put  more  intelli- 
gence into  our  social  pleasures.  There  is  little  excuse, 


RELIGION  AND  SOCIAL  PLEASURE      275 

except  the  general  barbarity  of  our  civilization,  for  the 
low  moral  and  intellectual  plane  of  prevalent  social 
pleasures  and  amusements. 

This  brings  us  to  the  fourth  principle  which  should 
guide  us  in  the  selection  of  social  pleasures,  that  they 
should  be  spiritual;  that  is,  they  should  not  be  merely 
sensual  or  animal,  but  the  higher  mental  and  social  ele- 
ments should  dominate  in  them.  Whether  the  pleasures 
be  those  of  commonplace  life  or  of  art,  they  are  saved 
from  animalism  only  by  the  dominance  in  them  of  the 
higher  mental  and  social  elements.  The  spiritual,  how- 
ever, is  not  something  apart  from  the  things  of  which  we 
have  already  spoken,  but  rather  a  proper  combination  of 
them.  Pleasures  that  are  recreative  and  at  the  same  time 
unselfish  and  highly  intelligent  are  spiritual.  They  make 
toward  the  higher  development  of  the  mental  and  social 
traits  of  man,  or,  as  we  say,  of  his  spiritual  life.  The 
validity  of  this  ideal  of  social  pleasure  has  often  been 
denied,  but  it  may  be  pointed  out  that  the  pleasures  of 
which  we  are  not  ashamed,  which  we  go  out  of  our  way 
to  promote,  are  of  just  this  character.  Such  pleasures 
are  consistent  with  the  highest  social  religion. 

If  all  of  our  social  pleasures  ana  amusements  were 
truly  recreative,  unselfish,  educative,  and  spiritual,  there 
would  be  little  or  no  problem  in  connection  with  them, 
except  how  we  might  best  promote  them.  But  our  social 
pleasures  and  amusements  are  not  now  of  this  character. 
How  can  we  lift  them  to  this  plane?  In  part  we  have 
already  indicated  ways  of  doing  this.  But  the  problem 
remains  how  certain  forms  of  social  pleasure  may  be  re- 
deemed and  put  upon  a  highly  moral  and  social  plane. 

The  church  must  take  its  full  part  in  this  redemptive 


276   THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  KELIGIOST 

work.  If  provision  for  rational  social  pleasure  and  amuse- 
ment is  to  be  a  public  function,  then  such  provisions  can 
best  be  developed  in  many  cases  in  connection  with  the 
churches  and  schools.  Just  how  much  each  church  should 
provide  for  the  wholesome  recreation  and  amusement  of 
its  attendants  depends,  of  course,  upon  local  circumstances. 
The  church  in  the  crowded  conditions  of  city  life  will 
naturally  develop  in  the  direction  of  making  direct  pro- 
vision for  these.  So,  too,  probably  the  church  in  the 
isolated  rural  regions.  But  whether  the  church  under- 
takes directly  such  activities  or  not,  it  is  the  function  of 
social  religion  to  provide  leadership  in  such  matters.  It 
must  undertake  the  redemption  of  the  amusements  and 
pleasures  of  young  people  in  particular.  To  this  end 
churches  must  concern  themselves  with  promoting  facili- 
ties for  wholesome  recreation.  Social  religion  must  in 
this  matter,  as  in  so  many  others,  lead  especially  through 
creating  public  opinion  and  public  conscience.  That  is 
its  true  function,  and  the  chief  method  of  its  program  of 
social  redemption. 

It  may  be  suggested  that  if  more  of  the  element  of  art 
entered  into  our  social  pleasures  and  amusements  we 
would  thereby  regenerate  them  and  more  easily  adapt 
them  to  the  needs  of  higher  civilization.  If  the  dance, 
for  example,  which  is  now  so  frequently  associated  with 
indecency  and  immorality,  could  be  put  upon  the  level 
of  true  art,  most  of  the  objectionable  features  now  so  fre- 
quently associated  with  it  would  probably  disappear.  The 
stage  and  the  moving  picture  show  need  quite  as  much  to 
be  touched  by  the  spirit  of  true  art  to  effect  their  regen- 
eration as  to  be  mndo  regardful  of  the  principles  of 
morality.  The  spirit  of  art  alone  cannot,  of  course,  pro- 
duce the  socially  right ;  but  it  is  certain  that  true  art  and 


KELIGION  AND  SOCIAL  PLEASURE      277 

the  spirit  of  social  idealism  may  work  hand  in  hand. 
Nothing  would  help  therefore  more  to  solve  the  problem 
of  social  pleasures  and  amusements  than  to  infuse  in  our 
people  of  every  class  a  love  for  and  appreciation  of  true 
art.  If  we  had  this  love  and  appreciation  of  true  art 
reigning  in  our  civilization,  it  would  be  found  that  the 
pursuit  and  enjoyment  of  the  fine  arts  would  spontane-  \ 
ously  tend  to  eliminate  many  of  the  more  barbarous  social 
pleasures  and  amusements  to  which  people  now  devote 
their  energies. 

Many  problems  concerning  recreation  and  amusements, 
which  now  trouble  us,  would  straighten  themselves  out  if 
we  could  put  our  social  pleasures  on  the  high  plane  which 
we  have  described.  We  would,  for  example,  have  little 
or  no  problem  concerning  the  proper  use  of  Sunday,  and 
we  should  need  no  Sunday  "blue  laws"  to  prohibit  pleas- 
ures and  amusements  upon  that  day.  It  must  be  obvious 
that  pleasures  and  amusements  which  are  demoralizing  on 
Sunday  are  equally  demoralizing  on  week  days,  and  only 
a  very  inconsistent  civilization  could  prohibit  them  on 
Sundays  and  tolerate  them  on  week  days.  Pleasures  that 
are  at  once  recreative,  unselfish,  educative,  and  spiritual 
are  manifestly  appropriate  for  the  Christian  Sunday  or 
Sabbath.  For  the  Sabbath,  as  Jesus  said,  is  made  for 
man.  This  is  not  saying,  of  course,  that  it  is  not  wise  and 
even  socially  necessary  for  a  people  to  set  apart  one  day 
out  of  seven  primarily  for  the  consideration  of  moral  and 
religious  truth.  The  Christian  Sabbath  is  not  primarily 
a  "recreation  day,"  or  a  "rest  day,"  except  as  rest  is  se- 
cured by  attention  to  the  higher  things  of  life.  It  is  pri- 
marily a  day  for  education  in  these  higher  things,  with 
which  social  religion  concerns  itself.  But  there  should 
be  the  same  place  in  it  for  rational  social  pleasures  and 


278   THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  BELIGION 

amusements  as  on  other  days.  Week  days  are  not  pri- 
marily for  social  pleasures  and  amusements,  neither  are 
Sundays.  Both  week  days  and  Sundays  should  be  dedi- 
cated to  the  serious  purposes  of  life;  Sundays,  to  the 
higher  spiritual  life,  week  days,  to  the  ordinary  business 
of  life.  We  cannot  afford  to  tolerate  on  week  days,  how- 
ever, pleasures  and  amusements  which  will  detract  from 
and  perhaps  undo  all  that  we  gain  in  a  spiritual  way  on 
Sundays.  Pleasures  and  amusements  on  Sundays  should, 
of  course,  be  consistent  with  the  high  purposes  of  the  day, 
but  this  is  best  achieved  not  by  repressive  legislation  but 
by  appeal  to  the  conscience  of  the  individual.  We  should, 
at  any  rate,  not  tolerate  on  week  days  pleasures  and 
amusements  which  we  are  afraid  to  have  enjoyed  on 
Sundays. 

Plainly  the  principles  which  should  guide  MB  in  our 
choice  of  social  pleasures  and  amusements,  that  we  have 
just  laid  down,  are  those  implicit  in  Jesus'  teachings.  A 
religion  and  ethics  of  the  service  of  God  through  the 
service  of  humanity,  such  as  Jesus  taught,  obviously  im- 
plies that  in  our  pleasures  and  amusements  we  shall  seek 
to  build  up  the  total  life  of  humanity.  This  we  cannot 
do  if  our  pleasures  and  amusements  are  such  as  to  weaken 
or  destroy  bodily  strength,  injure  the  rights  or  the  hap- 
piness of  others,  stultify  intelligence,  or  encourage  the 
sensual  and  animal  in  us.  Jesus  has  often  been  accused 
of  being  ascetic  in  his  outlook  on  life;  but  there  is  little 
or  nothing  in  his  life  and  teachings  to  warrant  such  a 
charge.  He  not  only  mingled  in  the  social  life  around 
him  but  shared  in  the  social  pleasures  and  amusements 
of  his  time  to  such  an  extent  that  he  brought  down  upon 
himself  the  censure  of  the  moral  rigorists  of  his  day. 
This  censure  was,  however,  quite  as  unwarranted  as  the 


RELIGION  AND  SOCIAL  PLEASURE      279 

present  charge  of  asceticism.  The  teaching  and  life  of 
Jesus  seem  to  illustrate  so  perfectly  the  normal  place  of 
social  pleasure  in  a  normal  life  that  again  modern  science 
can  add  but  little  to  the  fundamental  principles  which  he 
made  evident. 

It  must  be  true  Christianity,  or  the  religion  of  Jesus, 
which  will  solve  the  problem  of  social  pleasures  and 
amusements  in  our  society.  When  our  social  life  is  suf- 
fused with  the  spirit  of  Jesus'  teachings,  there  will  be  no 
perplexing  problem  left  in  regard  to  such  matters.  Not 
legislation,  but  religious  and  moral  education,  education 
in  the  principles  of  social  religion  and  ethics  as  laid  down 
by  Jesus,  must  solve  this  problem. 


CHAPTER 


THE  OPPORTUNITY  OF  THE  CHURCH 

THE  church  is  the  institution  organized  to  embody  con- 
cretely the  religious  life  of  society.  It  is  co-ordinate  in 
importance  with  religion  itself;  for  if  religion  is  to  he 
a  vital  influence  in  social  life  it  must  find  concrete  em- 
hodiment  in  some  institution.  Only  through  suitable 
organization  can  the  religious  life  express  itself  and  he 
developed  in  the  mass  of  individuals.  "While  it  is  a  great 
mistake  to  make  organization  an  end  in  itself,  yet  it  is  an 
equally  great  mistake  to  think  that  the  religious  life  should 
not  be  organized.1  To  some  extent,  it  has  always  been 
organized,  because  the  religion  of  the  most  primitive  peo- 
ples is  of  a  congregational  or  communal  character.  The 
more  highly  developed  a  religion  is,  the  more  pronounced 
will  become  its  institutional  character  and  the  more  com- 
pletely will  it  become  organized.  A  religious  life  with- 
out organization  would  be  non-co-operative,  non-social, 
and  individualistic.  It  could  not  be  representative  of 
social  religion  in  the  fullest  sense.2  It  would  be  like  a 
political  or  economic  life  which  was  unorganized.  Just 
as  men  find  organization  indispensable  in  their  political 
and  economic  life,  so  too  men  find  organization  indis- 
pensable in  the  religious  life. 


1  See  Chapter  V,  p.  131. 

1  It  should  be  remembered  that  developed  religion  is  always  a  social 


product  and  functions  socially. 


See  Chapter  II. 
280 


ial 


OPPORTUNITY  OF  THE  CHUKCH        281 

The  church  is  the  institution  which  stands  for  the  or- 
ganized religious  life  of  men.  Without  it,  that  life  would 
be  powerless  and  utterly  incapable  of  transforming  human 
society.  The  church  exists  to  serve  the  great  interests  of 
religion  in  society,  that  is,  to  serve  those  ideal  values  for 
which  religion  should  stand.  Therefore  the  social  func- 
tion of  the  church  is  to  conserve  and  propagate  religious 
and  moral  ideals  in  human  society.  Its  great  business  is 
to  bring  before  men  the  demands  of  the  higher  spiritual 
life.  Its  function,  in  a  word,  is  to  be  the  "spiritual 
power"  in  human  society.  Other  activities  than  the 
teaching  and  propagation  of  moral  and  religious  ideals 
may,  of  course,  demand  its  attention ;  but  that  that  is  its 
main  business  cannot  be  doubted. 

Viewed  from  this  standpoint,  the  church  is  the  most 
important  of  all  human  institutions.  The  Christian 
church  in  particular  is  charged  with  the  task,  not  only 
of  creating  Christian  character  in  individuals,  but  of 
establishing  the  kingdom  of  God  upon  earth.  However 
imperfectly  it  has  performed  its  task,  it  is,  in  a  sense,  the 
most  remarkable  of  institutions.  For  here  is  an  institu- 
tion devoted  avowedly  to  social  idealism,  to  the  re-making 
of  human  character  and  of  human  institutions  themselves 
in  conformity  with  the  divine  ideal.  Whatever  the  faults 
of  the  church,  surely  no  other  human  institution  bears 
such  witness  to  the  idealistic  aspirations  of  mankind.  It 
is  no  accident,  therefore,  that  many  of  the  noblest,  most 
aspiring,  most  unselfish  spirits  of  our  race  have  found 
their  work  in  the  upbuilding  of  this  institution;  and  we 
shall  try  to  show  that  it  was  not  foolishness  on  their  part, 
even  though  the  institution  itself  was  inadequately  or- 
ganized to  achieve  its  purpose,  and  though  they  were  un- 
guided  by  scientific  principles  in  working  out  the  difficult 
tasks  which  they  set  before  themselves. 


282   THE  KECO^STKUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

But  all  institutions  have  an  insidious  tendency  to  forget 
the  purposes  for  which  they  were  originally  organized  and 
to  set  themselves  up  as  ends  in  themselves,  or  else  be  di- 
verted to  side  issues.  Historically,  as  we  have  seen,  this 
has  often  been  the  case  with  the  Christian  church.  In- 
deed it  could  not  have  been  otherwise,  because  the  church 
is  a  human  institution  and  subject  to  all  of  the  errors 
which  its  human  constituents  may  make.  Institutions,  as 
we  have  seen,  like  individuals,  necessarily  learn  by  the 
trial  and  error  method.  Yet  it  would  seem  that  the  Chris- 
tian church  should,  by  this  time,  have  learned  enough  by 
the  mistakes  of  the  past  to  set  itself  square  with  its  stu- 
pendous task. 

There  is  urgent  need  in  our  world  to-day  of  a  new,  re- 
united, re-vitalized  Christian  church,  which  shall  take  tip 
anew,  with  the  faith  of  its  founder,  the  task  of  redeeming 
the  world.  Never  was  the  church  less  fitted  in  some  ways, 
however,  for  this  great  task  than  at  the  present  time. 
Divided  within  herself,  with  her  faith  often  cold,  with 
pagan  standards  and  worldly  interests  too  often  ascendant 
within  her,  it  is  no  wonder  that  some  of  her  noblest  spirits 
despair  of  the  church's  being  equal  to  her  opportunity.  It 
is  not  that  the  church  is  worse — for  certainly  never  before 
were  there  so  many  within  her  who  perceived  clearly  the 
truth — but  that  the  opportunity  and  the  responsibility 
have  suddenly  become  so  much  greater. 

Unless  there  is  renewed  vision,  renewed  consecration  to 
the  work,  and  new  and  clear  understanding  of  all  facts 
and  forces,  the  church  cannot  succeed  in  its  stupendous 
task  of  redeeming  the  world.  Yet  if  it  fails,  we  have  no 
good  ground  for  believing  that  any  other  institution  can 
succeed.  The  church,  as  the  torch  bearer  of  social  ideal- 
ism, must  lead  the  way  if  other  institutions  are  to  follow 
in  the  work  of  the  social  redemption  of  mankind.  What 


OPPOKTUNITY  OF  THE  CHUKCH       283 

then  must  the  church  do  to  fit  herself  for  leadership  in 
this  supreme  work  which  is  committed  to  her  charge? 

First  of  all,  the  churcH  must  become  united  within 
itself.  It  cannot  preach  a  gospel  of  reconciliation  suc- 
cessfully unless  it  can  illustrate  that  doctrine  in  its  own 
life.  It  cannot  reunite  a  divided  world  as  long  as  it  re- 
mains divided  and  warring  within  itself./  It  cannot  ex- 
pect to  bring  about  the  federation  of  the  world  for  peace 
as  long  as  peace  and  co-operation  do  not  reign  within 
itself.  v  This  does  not  mean  that  there  shall  not  be  liberty 
within  the  church.  The  unity  which  the  world  demands 
of  the  church  is  a  unity  of  co-operation  in  the  work  of 
saving  mankind.  Such  unity  will  leave  liberty  in  non- 
essentials,  such  as  denominational  theological  beliefs  and 
ritual  practices.  The  unity  of  the  church  in  the  work  of 
redeeming  mankind  must  be  a  practical  unity,  a  genuine 
brotherhood  in  service,  which  transcends  and  tolerates  dif- 
ferences in  these  non-essential  matters. 

Such  unity  should  be  conceived  in  a  broad  enough  spirit 
to  include  all  who  are  working  for  the  establishment  of  a 
Christian  world.  ~Not  only  should  it  be  possible  for  all 
branches  and  denominations  of  the  Christian  church  to 
form  such  a  unity,  but  there  is  no  reason  why  any  church 
organization  which  is  willing  to  work  for  this  end  should 
be  excluded  from  such  a  working  unity.  Not  only  should 
Catholic  and  Protestant  find  it  possible  to  co-operate 
within  such  a  church  universal,  but  also  Jew  and  Chris- 
tian. It  must  be  remembered  that  the  Jewish  Synagogue 
is  the  mother  of  the  Christian  church,  and  that  the  re- 
ligion of  the  later  prophets  of  the  Old  Testament  is  essen- 
tially the  religion  of  Jesus.  Moreover,  at  the  present 
time,  there  are  many  Jews  who  are  more  Christian  than 
many  so-called  Christians,  and  many  Christians  whose 


284:   THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

religion  is  more  that  of  the  Old  Testament  than  that  of 
the  New.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  unfortunately  true 
that  there  are  still  many  Jews  who  shy  at  the  very  word 
"Christian,"  or  at  anything  to  which  it  may  be  applied, 
so  much  do  they  still  confuse  genuine  Christianity — the 
teaching  of  Jesus — with  the  persecutions  which  they  have 
suffered  at  the  hands  of  those  who  wrongly  claimed  to 
represent  it.  We  may  agree,  indeed,  with  a  leading 
Jewish  scholar  1  when  he  says,  "The  long  waited  for  recon- 
ciliation between  Judaism  and  Christianity  will  come 
when  the  teachings  of  Jesus  become  the  accepted  maxims 
of  human  conduct."  Not  until  Christians  become  more 
completely  Christian,  in  a  word,  can  we  expect  the  Jewish 
church  to  see  the  truth  that  is  in  Jesus  and  to  unite 
heartily  with  all  Christian  denominations  in  working  for 
a  Christian  world.  Already  there  are  signs,  however,  of 
such  a  movement,  and  it  is  certain  that  nothing  would 
hasten  it  so  much  as  the  full  establishment  of  the  religion 
of  Jesus  within  the  Christian  church.  For,  as  one  of  their 
liberal  religious  thinkers  says,2  "The  Jew  cannot  help 
hoping  that  Jesus  may  yet  serve  as  a  bond  of  union  be- 
tween Jew  and  Christian,  once  his  teaching  is  better 
known  and  the  bane  of  misunderstanding  at  last  is  re- 
moved from  his  words  and  his  ideal." 

As  to  Protestant  and  Roman  and  Greek  Catholic,  there 
should  no  longer  be  difficulty  in  their  working  together 
at  the  common  task  of  the  church.  Liberalism  is  slowly 
but  surely  rising  in  both  the  Roman  and  Greek  Catholic 
churches;  and  in  both  the  essential  teaching  of  Jesus  is 
coming  so  to  the  front  that  they  sometimes  put  to  shame 
Protestant  churches  by  the  advanced  programs  of  social 
justice  which  they  put  forward.  Any  one  who  knows  these 

1  Professor  Morris  Jastrow. 

'Rabbi  H.  G.  Enelow,  A  Jeioish  View  of  Jesus,  p.  181. 


OPPORTUNITY  OF  THE  CHUKCH        285 

churches  knows  that  within  them  are  found  many  of  the 
truest  Christians  of  our  present  world.  However  much 
Protestants  may  feel  themselves  forced  to  criticize  and 
condemn  the  ecclesiastical  organization  and  methods  of 
these  older  denominations,  they  should  perceive  the  true 
Christian  spirit  at  work  in  these  churches,  encourage  it 
by  their  fraternal  co-operation,  and  trust  to  it  to  work 
out  the  problems  of  internal  reorganization  and  regenera- 
tion. Great  movements  within  the  Roman  and  Greek 
Catholic  churches  attest  that  such  internal  regeneration 
is  already  going  on,  and  Protestants  should  remember  that 
they  have  enough  to  do  in  setting  their  own  household  in 
order.  Again  we  may  paraphrase  and  say,  when  the  teach- 
ings of  Jesus  become  the  accepted  maxims  of  all  churches, 
the  long  waited  for  reconciliation  between  Protestants  and 
Catholics  will  come.  Obviously  the  way  to  bring  this 
about  is  not  to  debate  or  argue,  but  to  enter  into  such 
relations  of  co-operation  as  the  spirit  of  love  which  Jesus 
taught  would  prompt. 

As  to  'the  relations  of  Christianity  and  the  non-Chris- 
tian religions,  we  have  already  seen  that  there  is  every 
reason  to  believe  that  when  the  true  Christian  spirit  once 
fully  dominates  the  Christian  church,  it  will  gradually 
permeate  and  transform  the  non-Christian  religions  so  far 
as  they  are  capable  of  surviving  under  conditions  of  true 
civilization.  As  Dr.  Josiah  Strong  said,  "When  Chris- 
tendom has  been  Christianized,  we  may  expect  the  con- 
version of  pagandom — and  not  until  then."  *  Christian 
churches  should  therefore  not  hesitate  to  co-operate  with 
non-Christian  bodies  in  the  attainment  of  Christian  ends, 
as  that  is  the  best  way  to  develop  in  both  the  true  spirit 
of  Christianity.  Deeds  always  count  for  more  than  pro- 

1  The  New  World  Religion,  p.  503. 


286   THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

fessions  in  human  life.  Indeed,  as  we  have  already 
pointed  out,1  the  very  basis  for  membership  in  Christian 
churches  themselves  should  be  this  practical  co-operation 
with  the  church  in  Christian  work.  It  should  be  an  in- 
telligent willingness  to  co-operate  with  the  church  in  its 
work  of  redeeming  mankind  rather  than  a  submissive 
acceptance  of  theological  dogmas.  It  should  mean  for  the 
individual  full  personal  consecration  to  the  Christian 
cause  through  the  sendee  of  mankind. 

Many  of  the  best  minds  of  the  church  shrink  from  this 
broadly  tolerant  Christian  attitude.  They  fear  that  it 
may  lead  to  the  toleration  of  wrong  and  of  error,  or  at 
least  to  a  flabby  and  shallow  religious  life.  Nothing  could 
probably  be  further  from  the  truth  than  such  a  supposi- 
tion. It  is  the  practical  social  attitude  in  religion  more 
than  anything  else  which  will  drive  paganism  out  of  our 
churches.  It  has  been  theological  Christianity  which  has 
tolerated  practical  paganism  in  the  church,  covering  it 
with  the  cloak  of  respectability  by  making  the  acceptance 
of  a  theological  creed  count  for  so  much.  The  result  haa 
been,  to  quote  an  orthodox  Christian  minister,  "What  we 
call  the  Christian  church  is  more  or  less  that  only  in 
name.  The  most  outstanding  fundamentals  of  Chris- 
tianity, as  Jesus  taught  it,  have  either  been  so  completely 
lacking  in  it  or  so  adulterated  with  self-seeking  that  they 
have  been  able  to  function  but  little."  Such  a  condition 
can  be  overcome  only  through  the  teaching  and  practice 
of  an  aggressive  social  Christianity — through  reawakening 
the  spirit  of  Jesus  in  every  church  member. 

The  "hospital"  conception  of  the  church,  which  has  so 
disgraced  Protestantism,  should  be  given  up.  The  pri- 
mary business  of  the  church  is  not  to  heal  the  physically 

1  Chapter  V,  p.  159. 


OPPORTUNITY  OF  THE  CHURCH        287 

or  spiritually  sick  or  to  give  spiritual  or  physical  comfort 
to  its  members.  Such  a  conception  makes  the  work  of  the 
church  individualistic  and  selfish;  and  such  individualism 
and  selfishness  in  religion  is  hostile  to  the  spirit  of  Chris- 
tianity and  perpetuates  paganism  in  the  church.1  The 
ministry  of  the  church  to  the  individual  is  incidental  to 
:::iin  work,  which  is  that  of  the  establishment  of  the 
kingdom  of  God  among  men.  Like  an  army,  the  church 
will  look  after  the  health  and  welfare,  physical  and 
spiritual,  of  its  members ;  but  like  an  army,  it  will  con- 
stantly remind  its  members  that  their  individual  welfare 
and  comfort  is  not  the  chief  end  sought. 

Even  the  conception  of  the  church  as  an.  individualistic 
educational  institution  is  quite  inadequate.  Individual 
religious  and  moral  education  is,  to  be  sure,  the  founda- 
tion of  all  of  its  work.  Without  this  foundation  it  could 
not  become  an  organized  spiritual  power  for  the  redemp- 
tion of  mankind.  It  must  devote  itself  to  the  ethical  and 
religious  culture  of  every  member  in  order  that  every 
member  may  be  fit  for  the  largest  human  service.  Until 
Christianity  is  effectively  taught  to  every  one  who  is 
brought  under  the  influence  of  the  church,  we  cannot  ex- 
pect that  Christian  ideals  will  be  carried  out.  Much 
evidence  goes  to  show  that  Christianity  has  never  been 
effectively  taught  or  even  clearly  presented  to  the  mass 
of  church  members,  to  say  nothing  of  the  mass  of  the 
people  at  large.2  "We  have  known,"  says  Professor  Coe, 

1  See  Chapters  III,  IV  and  V. 

3  The  Committee  on  the  War  and  the  Religious  Outlook  of  the 
Federal  Council  of  Churches  in  America  published  a  report  of  their 
careful  investigation  of  the  religious  condition  of  the  men  in  the 
American  army,  entitled  Religion  Among  American  Hen:  As  Revealed 
ly  a  Study  of  Conditions  in  the  Army.  The  gist  of  this  report  is 
given  in  the  following  quotation:  "If  there  is  any  one  point  upon 
which  the  chaplains  agree  it  is  in  regard  to  the  widespread  ignorance 


288   THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

"that  spiritual  illiteracy  abounds  in  the  churches  them- 
selves. The  ideas  of  church  members  concerning  the  sig- 
nificance of  their  membership,  like  the  ideas  of  the  gen- 
eral populace  concerning  the  Christian  religion,  are  partly 
vague  and  partly  miscellaneous  and  unco-ordinated."  x 

Every  Christian  church  should  manifestly  be  a  teach- 
ing church.  From  one  point  of  view,  this  is  its  supreme 
work.  Only  we  need  to  remember  that  teaching  is  not 
an  end  in  itself.  The  end  which  is  sought  by  teaching, 
after  all,  is  a  practical  end — the  transformation  of  human 
conduct  and  of  human  institutions.  Education  is  a  means 
and  a  method,  not  an  end  in  itself.  The  church  must  be 
truly  an  educational  institution,  and  until  it  recognizes 
itself,  and  is  recognized  as  a  fundamental  educational  in- 
stitution, the  church  will  not  function  rightly,  nor  will 
human  society  be  right. 

The  relation  between  the  church  and  the  school  is  there- 
fore a  very  close  one,  and  should  be  much  closer  than  that 
which  exists  in  American  society  at  the  present  day.  We 
need  not  go  to  the  extreme  of  making  the  church  absorb 
the  school  or  the  school  absorb  the  church,  as  that  is  op- 
posed to  the  principle  of  the  division  of  labor  in  social 
evolution,  which  holds  for  institutions  as  well  as  for  indi- 
viduals. But  there  can  be  and  should  be  the  closest  co- 
operation between  the  school  and  church.  The  church  has, 
in  a  sense,  the  most  important  education  of  all  to  carry 
out  for  our  youth — the  education  in  the  higher  social 

as  to  the  meaning  of  Christianity.  .  .  .  We  might  well  hope  that 
in  a  "Christian"  country  men  gc-nernlly,  even  those  without  any 
allegiance  to  Christ  or  His  Church,  would  know  what  Christianity  K 
Chaplains  say  that  they  do  not  know.  And  they  go  beyond  that  and 
say  that  men  nominally  within  the  Church,  men  who  hare  been  to 
Christian  schools,  are  in  much  the  same  condition.  The  Church  as 
a  teacher  has  failed  to  instruct  its  own  membership."  (Italics  mino.1 
1  Journal  of  Religion,  January,  1921,  pp.  20-22,  in  a  very  striking 
article  on  "The  Religious  Breakdown  of  the  Ministry." 


OPPORTUNITY  OF  THE  CHURCH        289 

values,  in  moral  and  religious  ideals.  Every  church  should 
therefore  organize  itself  as  a  teaching  church.  Its  classes, 
moreover,  should  not  be  merely  for  children  and  adoles- 
cents. The  whole  church  should  be  kept  constantly  mo- 
bilized for  study — the  study  of  the  principles  of  Chris- 
tianity on  the  one  hand,  and  of  the  actually  attained 
Christian  living  or  the  lack  of  it  in  the  world,  on  the 
other.  Thus  Christianity  and  the  cause  and  the  work 
of  the  church  could  be  kept  constantly  before  the  mind  of 
every  church  member.  In  such  a  church,  every  individual 
would  be  in  training  for  the  larger  work  of  the  church 
and  the  maximum  number  would  be  kept  fit  for  that 
larger  service. 

It  is  evident  that  the  work  of  the  church  in  the  educa- 
tion of  individuals  is  so  completely  bound  up  with  the 
larger  work  of  which  we  are  about  to  speak  that  it  can- 
not be  separated  from  it,  and  we  shall  have  to  return  again 
to  this  subject  as  the  foundation  of  all  of  the  work  of  the 
church.  Before  leaving  this  topic  we  cannot  but  remark 
that  there  would  be  little  or  no  need  for  emotional  re- 
vivals to  call  the  attention  of  men  to  the  value  of  Chris- 
tian living,  if  every  child  could  be  brought  up  in  the 
church  and  given  Christian  ideals  of  life  to  start  with. 
Under  such  circumstances  there  would  be  no  need  of  those 
emotional  crises  which  we  have  come  to  associate  with  the 
very  word  "conversion."  Such  conversions,  psychology 
shows,  are  unnecessary  in  the  proper  development  of  the 
moral  and  religious  life,  are  largely  a  waste  of  energy, 
and  often  ineffective  for  the  production  of  true  Christian 
living. 

If  the  business  of  the  church  cannot  be  summed  up  as 
looking  after  the  physical  and  spiritual  welfare  of  its 
members,  or  even  as  educating  them  into  Christian  ideas 


290  THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

and  ideals,  what  then  is  its  work  ?  Plainly  its  final  work, 
as  we  have  so  frequently  said,  is  the  social  redemption  of 
mankind — the  creation  of  a  Christian  world.  But  this 
means  something  more  than  a  ministry  to  individuals  as 
individuals.  It  means  the  transformation  of  customs  and 
institutions.  It  means  the  shaping  of  the  policies  and 
conduct  of  groups  as  well  as  of  individuals.  Beyond  the 
church's  mission  of  individual  evangelism  is  the  church's 
mission  of  social  evangelism.  (  The  subject  of  redemption 
is  not  the  individual,  but  the  world  of  individuals.  -J  How 
can  the  church  undertake  this  larger  work  of  social  con- 
trol to  secure  the  social  redemption  of  mankind?,  Mani- 
festly the  church  must  undertake  to  deal  not  only  with 
individuals,  but  with  mass  movements  and  the  forces  that 
lie  back  of  mass  movements,  which  we  vaguely  call  public 
sentiment,  public  opinion,  and 'popular  will.  The  church 
must  undertake  the  work  of  creating  conscience,  a  public 
conscience,  upon  the  behavior  of  groups  as  well  as  of  in- 
dividuals.1 JSTot  until  the  church  is  willing  to  grapple 
with  this  problem,  which  we  might  call  that  of  "Christian 
statesmanship,"  can  it  create  a  Christian  world. 

It  must  be  evident  to  all  who  desire  a  Christian  world,2 
that  if  such  a  world  is  ever  to  become  a  reality,  the  church, 
animated  by  the  true  spirit  of  Christianity,  must  assume 
the  moral  leadership  of  the  opinion  of  mankind.  A  Chris- 

1  This  conception  of  the  work  of  the  church  was  first  plainly  set 
forth  by  Dr.  Samuel  Zane  Batten  in  an  article  on  "The  Church  as 
the  Maker  of  Conscience"  in  the  American  Journal  of  Sociology  for 
March,  1902  (Vol.  7,  pp.  61  If).  Compare  also  his  book,  The  Social 
Task  of  Christianity.  The  conception  of  the  work  of  the  church  as 
the  creation  of  public  conscience  is,  of  courso,  closely  allied  to  the 
conception  that  the  work  of  the  church  is  chiefly  prophetic.  How- 
ever, the  former  expression  is  to  be  preferred  as  less  ambiguous  and 
more  in  line  with  the  terminology  of  the  social  sciences. 

1  From  this  point  on  the  substance  of  this  chapter  was  presented 
in  a  paper  before  The  Religious  Education  Association  at  its  Pitts- 
burgh meeting  in  March,  1920.  See  Religious  Education  for  April, 
1920. 


OPPOKTUSTITY  OF  THE  CHUECH        291 

tian  society,  we  have  seen,  cannot  be  realized  by  merely 
developing  Christian  character  in  individuals.  That  has 
been  a  mistaken  idea  of  the  Protestant  church.  "No 
individual/'  says  one  of  the  profounder  social  thinkers  of 
the  present,1  "can  change  the  disorder  and  iniquity  of 
this  world.  !N"o  chaotic  mass  of  men  and  women  can  do 
it."  Such  change  can  come  only  through  public  opinion, 
organized  popular  will,  and  social  control./  The  transition 
frofti  non-Christian  society,  then,  to  Christian  society  can 
only  be  effected  by  the  formation  and  guidance  of  an 
effective  public  opinion  which  shall  express  itself  in  an 
appropriate  mode  of  social  control,  because  that  is  the 
only  mechanism  through  which  conscious  social  changes 
are  effected  in  human  society.  .Individual  education,  in- 
dividual conversion,  individual' repentance,  and  the  whole 
development  of  individual  Christian  character  are,  of 
course,  necessary  foundations;  but  if  the  church  desires 
a  Christian  world,  it  must  have  a  vision  of  its  work  be- 
yond these  fundamentals.  It  must  see  that  its  higher 
work  is  the  creation  of  public  conscience — that  is,  an 
effective  public  opinion — regarding  the  conditions  under 
which  men  and  groups  of  men  live  together.  It  is  only 
thus  that  a  Christian  world  can  come  into  being. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  about  the  power  of  public  opinion 
to  make  a  Christian  society,  and  ultimately  a  Christian 
world;  the  only  doubt  is,  as  to  whether  the  Christian 
church  will  use  its  opportunities  to  make,  guide,  and  con- 
trol public  opinion.  Probably  no  one  would  claim  that 
there  has  been  much  organized  effort  on  the  part  of  Prot- 
estant churches  in  the  United  States  in  the  past  to  guide 
and  control  public  opinion,2  unless  it  be  along  a  few  lines, 

1  Miss  Mary  P.  Follett,  The  New  State,  p.  101. 

•  See  the  "Social  Creed  of  the  Churches"  in  the  Appendix,  adopted 
by  the  Federal  Council  of  Churches  of  Christ  in  America,  represent- 


292    THE  RECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGIOST 

like  the  suppression  of  the  liquor  traffic.  Yet  this  is 
exactly  what  all  Christian  churches  must  undertake  if 
there  is  ever  to  be  a  Christian  world.  They  must  go  into 
the  business  of  creating  an  effective  public  conscience  re- 
garding all  relations  of  individuals,  classes,  nations,  and 
races.  The  cry  of  the  world  is  for  Christian  churches  to 
go  into  this  business  at  once.  If  the  world  is  to  be  saved 
for  Christianity,  the  churches  must  soon  become  more 
effectively  organized  for  the  guidance  and  control  of  pub- 
lic opinion.  Only  thus  can  a  Christian  environment  be 
created  for  the  nurture  of  Christian  character. 

For  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  in  civilized  societies 
public  opinion  is  the  chief  power  which  lies  back  of  in- 
stitutions, laws,  and  the  "mores"  or  customs,  since  these 
things,  sociology  shows,  are  social  habits  which  have  been 
reflected  upon  and  sanctioned  by  group  opinion  as  neces- 
sary for  group  welfare.1  In  democratic  societies,  espe- 
cially, public  opinion  plays  an  increasing  role;  for  de- 
mocracy, we  have  seen,  is  essentially  the  rule  of  public 
opinion.  The  social  life  of  the  future,  which  will  un- 
doubtedly be  democratic,  is  destined  to  be  more  and  more 
dominated  by  public  opinion.  We  live  in  a  world  which 
is  more  and  more  ruled  by  public  opinion.  If  we  want 
a  Christian  society,  therefore,  the  church  must  capture 
public  opinion  for  the  Christian  program. 

Let  us  see  clearly  the  reasons  why  this  is  so.     Public 

ing  thirty  Protestant  denominations.  However,  after  careful  inves- 
tigation the  author  has  been  convinced  that  not  one  member  of  those. 
churches  out  of  a  hundred  knows  of  the  existence  of  such  a  creed 
or  can  give  any  idea  of  its  content.  The  churches  thus  far  have 
failed  to  promulgate  it  through  their  pulpits  and  Sunday  Schools. 

1  Perhaps  the  best  discussion  of  public  opinion  from  the  standpoint 
of  sociology  is  to  be  found  in  Cooley's  Social  Oryom&Cltfow,  especially 
Chapter  XII.  See  also  Gidd  ings'  Prfaripla  of  Sociology,  p.  139  f., 
and  the  author's  Introduction  to  Social  Psychology,  p.  155f. 


OPPORTUNITY  OF  THE  CHURCH        293 

opinion,  we  have  said,  is  the  chief  force  in  civilized  so- 
ciety which  lies  hack  of  almost  all  laws  and  institutions; * 
but  laws  and  institutions  mould  very  largely  the  character 
of  individuals.  This  is  particularly  true  if  we  include  in 
institutions  the  "mores,"  that  is,  the  moral  standards  of 
the  people.  According  to  practically  all  sociologists  the 
mores  are  the  immediate  determiners  of  the  conduct  of 
masses  of  men.  It  is  absurd  to  think  that  we  can  have  a 
Christian  society  so  long  as  we  have  pagan  mores,  as  we 
have  seen  we  largely  have  in  Western  civilization.2  The 
problem  of  creating  Christian  society  is,  then,  essentially 
the  problem  of  developing  Christian  mores.  But  the 
mores  are  the  products  of  past  public  opinion;  they  can 
be  remade  and  reshaped  by  the  public  opinion  of  the 
future,  just  as  they  were  made  by  the  public  opinion  of 
the  past.  There  is  no  fatality  nor  finality  about  the 
mores,  though  people  are  prone  to  acquiesce  in  them  as  if 
there  were. 

Our  civilization  still  halts  between  the  ideal  of  a  society 
based  upon  force  and  the  ideal  of  a  society  based  upon 
good  will  or  Christian  love.  The  mores  of  barbarism  still 
so  largely  survive  among  us,  we  have  seen, — in  our  in- 
dustry, in  our  politics,  in  our  personal  relations — that  it 
is  with  difficulty  that  men  accept,  hold  to,  and  live  out 
the  Christian  ideal  of  life.  Such  mores,  we  have  seen, 
are  the  chief  source  of  evil  and  maladjustment  in  our 

1  That  is,  in  a  creative  way,  from  the  standpoint  of  control  over 
change.  Professor  Mecklin  distinguishes  sharply  (Introduction  to 
Social  Ethics,  Chapter  IX)  between  public  opinion  and  social  or 
public  conscience.  Such  distinction  is,  of  course,  justifiable;  but  it 
should  not  be  overlooked  that  public  opinion  is  the  dynamic  element 
in  changing  the  social  conscience.  Effective  public  opinion  creates 
social  conscience;  and  if  its  formation  can  be  safeguarded  in  the 
ways  which  we  point  out,  its  intelligence  will  be  assured. 

8  See  Chapter  IV. 


294   THE  KECONSTKtJCTION  OF  KELIGION 

present  society,  and  they  threaten  to  carry  us  back  again 
completely  to  that  pagan  barbarism  from  which  most  of 
the  nations  of  the  world  are  but  just  emerging.  They  are 
the  chief  enemy  of  the  church  and  Christianity.  If  we 
want  a  Christian  world,  we  must  have  in  the  place  of  the 
mores  of  barbarism  Christian  mores,  Christian  institu- 
tions, Christian  civilization,  a  Christian  social  environ- 
ment in  brief,  in  which  the  Christian  life  will  come  as 
easily  and  naturally  to  individuals  as  national  loyalty  and 
patriotism  do  now.  But  to  make  this  Christian  social 
environment,  the  Church  must  control  the  power  which 
lies  back  of  institutions  and  their  changes,  and  that  power 
is  public  opinion. 

But  let  us  now  consider  the  nature  of  public  opinion, 
for  there  are  many  misconceptions  prevalent,  and  then 
let  us  see  in  detail  how  the  church  might  undertake  to 
form  public  opinion  democratically  and  effectively  upon 
all  social  problems.  Public  opinion  does  not  imply  abso- 
lute uniformity  of  opinion  on  the  part  of  the  members 
of  a  group,  as  is  so  often  assumed.  In  large  complex 
populations  that  would  be  impossible.  There  must  be,  of 
course,  a  certain  core  of  agreement  among  the  individuals 
of  a  group  or  at  least  among  a  majority,  but  no  absolute 
uniformity  of  judgment  is  necessary.  Public  opinion  is 
rather  an  organization,  a  co-ordination,  of  many  separate 
individual  judgments  which  all  have  a  definite  trend  or 
direction.  Thus  a  collective  judgment  is  reached  which 
we  call  "public  opinion."  To  illustrate:  no  absolute  uni- 
formity of  opinion  regarding  the  evils  of  alcoholic  bev- 
erages or  regarding  details  of  anti-liquor  legislation  has 
existed  in  the  United  States.  There  has  been  general 
agreement,  however,  as  to  the  evils  of  the  liquor  traffic 
and  of  intemperance;  and  around  this  core  of  agreement 


OPPORTUNITY  OF  THE  CHURCH        295 

it  was  possible  to  crystallize  opinion  in  favor  of  the 
eighteenth  amendment  and,  we  hope,  of  its  enforcement. 
Of  course,  no  absolute  uniformity  of  opinion  regarding 
social  matters  can  be  expected  to  exist  among  members  of 
the  many  branches  of  the  Christian  church.  It  should  be 
possible,  however,  to  find  a  core  of  agreement,  in  that  all, 
or  at  least  a  majority,  of  church  members  may  be  pre- 
sumed to  want  a  Christian  society,  a  society  based  upon 
good  will  and  mutual  service.  Around  this  core  of  agree- 
ment, it  should  be  possible  to  crystallize  a  public  opinion 
in  favor  of  definite  Christian  customs  and  institutions. 
These  illustrations  show  that  the  formation  and  effective 
functioning  of  a  Christian  public  opinion,  while  it  would 
require  unity  in  essentials,  would  leave  liberty  among 
Christians  in  non-essentials.  This  truth  needs  emphasis 
in  view  of  the  many  divisions  which  exist  in  the  Christan 
church. 

From  this  it  follows  that  the  rule  of  public  opinion  is 
not  necessarily  the  rule  of  the  lowest  mind  or  even  of 
the  average  mind  in  the  group  which  forms  the  opinion. 
On  the  contrary,  if  public  opinion  means  no  absolute  uni- 
formity of  individual  judgment,  but  rather  the  co-ordina- 
tion of  opinions  in  a  definite  direction,  it  may  well  repre- 
sent the  mature  judgment  of  leaders  and  specialists  who 
are  in  close  touch  with  the  public.  Neither  the  church 
nor  the  world  needs  to  fear  the  rule  of  public  opinion  if 
it  is  properly  formed.  The  actual  level  which  public 
opinion  reaches  will  depend  upon  a  variety  of  circum- 
stances which  we  shall  proceed  to  consider;  but  it  is  evi- 
dent that  it  need  not  represent  the  level  of  the  lowest  mind 
in  the  group  nor  even  of  the  mediocre  mind. 

But  before  we  proceed  we  must  warn  against  confus- 
ing public  opinion  with  public  sentiment  and  popular 


296    THE  KECCOTSTKUCTIOlSr  OF  KELIGION 

emotion.  Much  injury  has  been  done  to  democracy  by 
confusing  the  rule  of  public  opinion  with  the  rule  of  pub- 
lic sentiment  or  popular  emotion.  Public  opinion  is  a 
more  or  less  rational  collective  judgment  formed  by  the 
action  and  reaction  of  many  individual  judgments.  It 
differs  radically,  therefore,  from  popular  emotion,  which 
depends  for  its  formation  upon  the  contagion  of  feeling, 
and  from  public  sentiment,  which  is  usually  the  mass  of 
feelings  associated  with  the  well-established  habits  of  a 
group.  Kather,  public  opinion  is  concerned  with  social 
changes,  with  making  new  social  adjustments.  Its  strength 
and  durability  consists  in  its  degree  of  rationality  and  in 
the  fact  that  it  is  formed  through  deliberate  and  open 
discussion.  Public  sentiment  and  popular  emotion  may 
exist  without  public  discussion,  but  not  true  public 
opinion.  Public  sentiment  is  usually  conservative,  popu- 
lar emotion  frequently  destructive  and  reactionary;  while 
public  opinion,  because  it  is  formed  by  rational  discus- 
sion, is  constructive  and  creative.  The  evangelism  of 
the  church,  therefore,  to  create  a  Christian  world  should 
beware  of  stirring  up  popular  emotion,  and  should  con- 
fine itself  to  the  creation  of  true  public  opinion  in  sup- 
port of  the  Christian  program.  Emotion  should  be  ap- 
pealed to,  if  at  all,  only  after  a  rational  public  opinion 
has  been  created ;  for  the  work  of  emotion  should  be  to 
intensify,  but  not  to  guide,  action. 

What  then  are  the  principles  which  should  guide  the 
church  in  its  work  of  forming  public  opinion  demo- 
cratically and  effectively?  First  of  all,  rational,  effective 
public  opinion  must  ~be  formed  under  conditions  of  free- 
dom. It  is  only  free  and  open  public  discussion  which  is 
competent  to  form  true  public  opinion,  we  have  seen; 
otherwise  the  product  will  be  the  opinion  of  some  minor 


OPPOKTUKITY  OF  THE  CHUKCH        297 

group  or  some  special  interest.  Moreover,  in  proportion 
as  public  opinion  is  formed  under  conditions  of  freedom, 
in  that  proportion  will  public  opinion  reach  the  highest 
degree  of  rationality;  for  only  under  conditions  of  free- 
dom can  all  the  facts  be  brought  to  light,  ideas  compared, 
and  judgments  tested.  Truth  under  such  conditions  will 
have  the  best  chance  to  prevail,  and  public  opinion  will 
be  powerful,  because  there  will  be  general  confidence  in 
its  rationality.  The  church  should  lead  in  such  public 
discussion  in  all  questions  where  moral  issues  are  involved. 
The  church  has  every  interest,  therefore,  in  maintaining 
free  speech,  and  a  free  press — within  the  limits,  of  course, 
of  courtesy,  decency  and  truth. 

The  second  principle  which  should  guide  the  church  in 
its  efforts  to  form  effective  public  opinion  is  that  public 
opinion  must  be  formed  under  conditions  of  obvious  dis- 
interestedness. If  the  work  of  the  church  for  a  Christian 
social  order  is  to  be  effective  it  must  be  disinterested; 
that  is,  it  should  have  in  it  no  selfish  motive.  The  church's 
sole  interest  should  be  in  the  good  of  humanity.  The 
propaganda  of  revolutionary  radicals,  even  though  it  is 
lacking  in  intelligence,  often  succeeds  because  of  its  dis- 
interestedness. The  temperance  movement  succeeded  best 
when  it  learned  to  avoid  partisanship  and  exaggeration, 
and  to  work  simply  for  social  welfare.  These  illustrations 
clearly  show  that  if  the  church  wants  dominion  over  the 
moral  opinion  of  mankind,  she  must  forget  self-interest 
absolutely,  and  seek  only  the  redemption  of  humanity.  All 
denominational  differences  must  be  forgotten  in  devotion 
to  this  common  unselfish  end.  Once  the  propaganda  of 
the  church  did  practically  rule  Western  civilization;  but 
as  the  church  used  its  great  influence  for  selfish  and  nar- 
row ends,  stifling  thought  and  repressing  social,  political, 


298    THE  EECONSTKUCTION  OF  KELIGION 

and  religious  progress,  it  lost  its  influence.  Even  yet 
men  look  back  with  horror  upon  the  period  of  the  church's 
dominance  in  the  past  and  with  misgiving  upon  the 
church's  influence  in  the  present.  But  if  the  church,  in 
its  efforts  to  guide  and  control  public  opinion,  will  keep 
public  discussion  free  and  open,  if  moreover  it  will  be 
disinterested  in  its  leadership,  and  if  finally  it  be  intel- 
ligent, there  will  be  no  need  to  fear  the  leadership  of  the 
church. 

The  third  quality  needed  by  the  church,  then,  if  it  is 
to  guide  public  opinion  democratically  and  effectively, 
is  intelligence.  Only  as  public  opinion  is  formed  with 
proper  appreciation  of  expert  knowledge  and  of  intelligent 
leadership,  can  it  develop  the  highest  degree  of  rationality 
and  power.  '  The  temperance  movement,  for  example,  de- 
veloped its  full  power  only  when  it  allied  itself  with 
science,  when  it  sought  and  diffused  the  fullest  scientific 
knowledge  regarding  the  effects  of  alcohol. 

This  means  that  if  the  church  is  to  form  public  opinion 
effectively  regarding  social  conditions,  it  must  have  a 
fuller  appreciation  of  social  science.  Social  intelligence 
is  indispensable  for  the  success  of  Christian  ideals,  and 
therefore  the  social  sciences  are  the  natural  allies  of  the 
church  in  its  work  of  building  a  Christian  society.  They 
will  furnish  more  material  for  the  effective  guidance  of 
public  opinion  in  a  Christian  direction  than  even  the 
Bible  itself.  If  the  ministry  of  the  church  is  to  under- 
take the  function  of  social  leadership,  it  should  be  trained 
even  more  in  sociology  than  in  theology.1  "The  minister," 

1  Says  Bishop  F.  J.  McConnoll  (Journal  of  Religion,  Vol.  I,  p. 
194)  :  "The  theological  schools  more  than  any  other  agencies  have 
the  responsibility  for  th<>  dian^c  of  emphasis  'which  we  need.  How 
many  of  us  who  left  tho  theological  M-hool  a  quarter  of  a  century 
ago  had  any  hard  training  in  the  social  sciences?"  He  concludes 
that  theological  faculties  need  experts  on  social  reconstruction. 


OPPOKTUlsriTY  OF  THE  CHUKCH        299 

says  Professor  Coe,  "must  be  a  critic  of  social  organiza- 
tion and  process,  and  particularly  of  the  human  product. 
...  To  what  extent  does  this  social  order  aim  to  produce 
and  succeed  in  producing  the  best  sort  of  men  and 
women  ?"  *  The  Christian  movement  will  develop  its  full 
power  only  when  it  allies  itself  with  social  science  and 
u-lien  it  seeks  and  diffuses  the  fullest  scientific  knowledge 
of  social  conditions.  It  is  regrettable,  therefore,  that  the 
church  as  a  whole  has  as  yet  so  little  faith  in  the  social 
sciences;  for  scientific  social  knowledge  could  help  it, 
more  than  wealth  or  temporal  power,  to  make  this  world 
Christian.  The  church  needs  conversion  to  modern  science 
almost  as  much  as  the  "world  needs  conversion  to  Chris- 
tianity. 

To  be  sure,  there  is  much  so-called  science  to-day,  even 
among  social  scientists,  which  lacks  common  sense,  is 
materialistic,  and  even  anti-Christian;  but  so  far  as  this 
is  not  merely  incidental  to  the  undeveloped  condition  of 
the  social  sciences,  it  is  largely  due  to  the  lack  of  interest 
of  the  churches  in  these  sciences.  The  temperance  move- 
ment, we  have  seen,  will  win  out  through  its  alliance  with 
science.  So  it  will  be  with  practically  every  phase  of  the 
Christian  movement  if  it  seeks  alliance  and  guidance 
from  science.  If  the  church  is  to  create  public  opinion 
upon  social  problems  its  first  duty  is  to  be  intelligent ;  and 
it  cannot  be  intelligent  without  adequate  scientific  knowl- 
edge of  the  facts  and  principles  of  human  living  together. 
The  church  has  vital  need  of  the  social  sciences.  It  needs 
more  knowledge  of  the  facts  and  forces  which  make  or  mar 
the  lives  of  men;  and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  these 
facts  and  forces  are  mainly  social.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  social  sciences,  though  they  exist  to  make  a  better 
human  world,  lag  behind  in  their  development  because  the 
1  Journal  of  Religion,  January,  1921,  p.  27. 


300    THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  RELIGION 

church  demands  so  little  from  them  and  gives  them  so 
little  support.  The  social  sciences  need  the  help  of  the 
church;  and  the  church  needs  the  help  of  the  social 
sciences.  There  should  be  an  alliance,  therefore,  between 
these  two.  A  practical  step  in  this  direction  would  be  the 
establishment  of  chairs  of  sociology,  politics,  and  eco- 
nomics in  all  schools  of  religion  and  in  all  Christian  col- 
leges. Then  the  church  might  become  socially  intelligent 
and  marshal  its  hosts  effectively;  for  the  redemption  of 
the  world. 

What  methods,  then,  may  the  church  legitimately  em- 
ploy to  form  and  guide  public  opinion?  This  question 
we  have  already  answered  by  implication,  but  a  few  con- 
crete measures  may  be  specified.  First  of  all,  there  is 
oral  discussion.  Church  members  should  realize  that  one 
of  the  first  duties  of  the  Christian  life  is  to  create  public 
opinion  and  public  conscience  on  social  matters.  This 
they  can  do  by  discussing  these  matters  with  friends  and 
neighbors  in  the  light  of  Christian  principles.  Habits 
and  opportunities  favoring  oral  discussion  are  falling  into 
disuse,  however,  in  modern  society.  The  church  might 
overcome  this  tendency  to  a  certain  extent  by  organizing 
"discussion  groups"  and  "open  forums"  for  the  discussion 
of  social  matters.  Sermonizing  by  ministers  on  social 
questions,  no  matter  how  excellent,  is  by  itself  inadequate, 
if  there  is  not  discussion  of  these  sermons  by  the  church 
members;  for  effective  public  opinion  is  always  the 
co-operative  product  of  the  interaction  of  many  individual 
minds. 

A  second  agency,  which  the  church  should  employ  to 
form  and  guide  public  opinion  is  the  press,  which  in  our 
civilization  has  become  the  chief  factor  in  the  making  of 


OPPORTUNITY  OF  THE  CHURCH        301 

public  opinion.  Here  indirect  action  will  probably  be 
most  effective.  If  those  church  members  connected  with 
the  press  as  managers  or  editors  did  their  full  duty  in 
creating  Christian  public  opinion,  our  civilization  would 
soon  become  Christian.  They  are  not  wholly  to  blame, 
however,  for  failing  to  carry  Christianity  into  their  busi- 
ness; for  the  church  thus  far  has  failed  to  insist  that  a 
supreme  duty  of  its  lay  members  is  to  create  public  con- 
science regarding  social  matters.  The  church  should  in- 
sist, therefore,  that  editors  and  managers  of  the  press 
have  in  their  business  the  greatest  opportunity  for  Chris- 
tian service  and  therefore  the  utmost  responsibility. 

Direct  methods  of  working  through  the  press  to  reach 
public  opinion  should,  of  course,  also  be  employed  by  the 
church.  The  most  powerful  agency  is  undoubtedly  the 
daily  and  weekly  secular  newspapers;  but  the  religious 
periodical  might  be  made  scarcely  second  in  importance. 
Telling  articles  along  every  line  of  the  work  of  the  church 
and  of  social  conditions  might  bring  Christian  responsi- 
bility home  to  church  members  in  ways  which  would  be 
effective  for  the  creation  of  Christian  public  opinion  and 
public  conscience. 

The  church,  too,  should  not  neglect  to  advertise  prop- 
erly its  activities  and  movements.  Psychologically,  the 
whole  matter  of  controlling  and  guiding  public  opinion 
may  be  said  to  be  a  matter  of  effective  advertising.  The 
most  righteous  program  of  the  ages  cannot  succeed,  we 
should  remember,  unless  in  some  way  it  can  be  made  to 
secure  the  serious  and  thoughtful  attention  of  the  mass 
of  men.  Sensational  methods,  of  course,  discredit  them- 
selves and  bring  reproach  upon  the  Christian  cause;  but 
the  church  has  been  too  timid  in  employing  proper 
methods  to  champion  the  Christian  program  and  to  bring 
it  to  the  attention  of  the  public. 


302    THE  KECONSTKUCTION  OF  EELIGIOX 

We  come  again  to  the  teaching  work  of  the  church  as 
the  thing  which  is  fundamental  both  in  the  creation  of 
individual  Christian  character  and  in  the  creation  of 
Christian  public  opinion.  The  education  of  the  young, 
as  we  have  seen,  must  be  peculiarly  the  method  of  the 
church.  In  the  long  run,  the  education  of  the  young  is 
also  the  most  effective  method  of  controlling  public 
opinion.  The  overwhelming  American  opinion  against 
the  liquor  traffic  was  undoubtedly  largely  the  result  of 
introducing  temperance  instruction  into  the  public  schools. 
The  church  should  use  its  influence  to  get  adequate  in- 
struction on  all  social  matters  introduced  into  our  public 
schools.  It  should  insist  that  public  education  is  for  the 
sake  of  creating  good  citizens.  If  it  cannot  yet  succeed 
in  getting  instruction  in  the  public  schools  on  social  mat- 
ters directly  connected  with  the  consideration  of  Chris- 
tian principles,  it  can  at  least  do  so  in  its  own  schools 
and  study  classes.  In  the  church's  Sunday  school  espe- 
cially there  should  be  instruction  given  regarding  social 
matters  in  direct  and  vital  connection  with  Christian 
principles;  but  the  average  Sunday  school  will  have  to  be 
remodelled  before  this  can  be  done  effectively.  Says  one 
of  the  leaders  of  religious  education  in  the  United  States :  * 
"We  find  that  the  prevailing  method  of  religious  educa- 
tion in  America  cannot  claim  the  name  of  system.  It  has 
no  intelligent  curriculum.  It  uses  much  unsuitable  mate- 
rial, while  it  neglects  a  mine  of  wealth.  It  neglects  the 
present  condition  of  the  world,  the  religious  movements 
of  our  day,  and  the  duties  of  the  hour.  It  neglects  the 
revelation  of  God  in  the  Universe  as  disclosed  by  modern 
science.  It  neglects  what  social  science  has  discovered  in 
the  ways  of  doing  good  to  men.  It  imparts  no  sane 
method  of  ascertaining  truth  and  deciding  duty.  The 
»Dr.  W.  Gv.  Ballantine. 


OPPORTUNITY  OF  THE  CHUECH        303 

only  method  it  uses  is  a  capricious  exegesis  of  ancient 
texts." 

While  many  of  the  best  Sunday  schools  in  our  cities 
have  gotten  to  a  much  higher  plane,  it  is  still  true  that  the 
average  Sunday  school  too  often  teaches  the  Bihle  or 
Christian  principles  abstractly  with  little  or  nothing  said 
about  the  concrete  social  situations  in  our  civilization. 
This  is  probably  the  reason  why  the  religion  of  so  many 
church  members  fails  to  function  when  they  come  into 
practical  contact  with  the  labor  problem,  the  negro  prob- 
lem, the  divorce  problem  or  some  other  concrete  social 
situation.  Something  more  than  the  Bible  and  Christian 
principles  should  be  taught  in  our  Sunday  schools;  and 
that  is  knowledge  of  actual  social  conditions  in  compari- 
son with  Christian  ideals.  There  is  no  good  reason  why 
good  books  on  social  and  economic  problems,  written  with 
a  Christian  background,  should  not  be  used  in  our  Sun- 
day schools  along  with  the  Bible.1  A  text  book  in 
sociology,  with  a  Christian  viewpoint,  is  no  more  out  of 
place  in  a  Sunday  school  room  than  a  book  in  Christian 
theology.  The  advanced  classes  should,  indeed,  be  study- 
ing such  books  in  connection  with  a  study  of  the  Gospels. 
The  vital  study  of  Christian  ideals  in  relation  to  real  life 
could  do  more  to  Christianize  public  opinion  than  probably 
any  other  means.  If  the  Sunday  school  was  thus  vitalized 
through  study  of  the  concrete  problems  of  Christian  liv- 
ing, there  would  probably  be  no  lack  of  interest  in  it  on 
the  part  of  either  children  or  adults. 


1  Says  Professor  Coe  (A  Social  Theory  of  Religious  Education,  p. 
315)  :  "The  spirit  of  Jesus  is  so  forward  looking,  so  creative,  go 
inexhaustible,  that  the  Bible  cannot  possibly  be  a  sufficient  text-book 
of  Christian  Living.  To  tie  religious  education  down  to  it,  a3 
dogmatism  desires  to  do,  would  make  us  like  those  who  are  ever 
learning,  but  never  able  to  come  to  the  truth — ever  learning  to  love, 
but  ever  permitting  the  social  order  to  defeat  love." 


304    THE  KECONSTKUCTIOJST  OF  KELIGION 

To  sum  up ;  if  the  church  is  to  create  a  Christian  world, 
it  must  control  in  larger  measure  public  opinion  "which 
is  the  ruling  force  of  our  time  and  the  real  sovereign  of 
democracy.  But  to  do  this,  the  whole  method  and  ma- 
chinery of  the  Christian  church  must  be  modernized.  The 
church  must  make  a  larger  use  of  scientific  sociological 
and  psychological  knowledge  of  every  sort.  The  church 
must  be  profoundly  interested  in  promoting  and  diffusing 
social  knowledge.  The  world  is  perishing  for  lack  of 
knowledge  of  the  way  in  which  human  beings  should  live 
together.  The  church  holds  one  key  to  this  knowledge,  the 
social  ideals  of  Jesus,  and  the  social  sciences  the  other. 
In  the  formation  of  an  effective  public  opinion  to  create 
a  Christian  world,  the  church  must  use  not  only  the  key 
of  Christian  ideals,  but  also  the  key  of  scientific  social 
knowledge. 

Thus  the  church  might  permeate  institutions  as  well 
as  individuals  with  the  Christian  spirit  and  create  a 
Christian  social  environment,  in  which,  as  we  have  said, 
the  Christian  life  would  seem  as  "natural"  as  the  life  of 
greed  and  selfishness  now  seems.  Thus  the  Christian 
spirit  might  permeate  and  gradually  transform,  in  the 
ways  we  have  already  indicated,  the  family  life,  the  po- 
litical life,  the  life  of  pleasure,  and  even  the  economic 
life.  The  radical  program  of  social  Christianity  now 
stands  revealed.  That  it  is  more  Utopian  and  revolu- 
tionary than  the  program  of  some  revolutionists  cannot 
be  denied;  for  it  seeks  to  base  human  society  upon  love 
and  reason  and  would  fearlessly  follow  these  in  building 
a  new  social  order.  That  it  is  a  program  which  will  be 
unacceptable  to  those  who  wish  to  live  a  self-seeking  life, 
to  those  who  are  unwilling  to  surrender  self  in  service, 
also  cannot  be  denied.  How  then  is  it  practicable  ?  What 
motives  are  powerful  enough  to  put  such  a  program  into 


OPPORTUNITY  OF  THE  CHURCH        305 

practice  ?  The  new  social  Christianity,  it  is  said,  will  not 
work,  because  it  lacks  strong  motives.  The  old  theological 
Christianity  appealed  to  men's  fear  and  self-interest— 
the  strongest,  it  is  claimed,  of  human  motives.  If  the 
new  social  Christianity  is  the  religion  of  Jesus,  then  it 
is  a  religion  which  will  not  work. 

The  reply  is,  that  self-seeking  impulses  are  not  the 
strongest  human  motives,  even  though  they  are  most  in 
evidence  in  our  present  social  system.  Self  has  never 
been  able  to  inspire  the  devotion  which  unselfish  ends  have 
called  forth.  All  the  higher  religions,  and  not  simply 
Christianity,  attest  that  devotion  to  an  ideal  is  potentially 
the  strongest  of  human  motives.  In  social  Christianity 
this  devotion  naturally  divides  itself  into  devotion  to  its 
leader  and  devotion  to  the  cause.  "The  heart  of  all  re- 
ligion," says  a  Japanese  Buddhist,  "is  the  faith  that  binds 
the  soul  to  its  Lord."  So  in  Christianity,  belief  in,  love 
of,  and  loyalty  to  Jesus  is  the  primary  motive  in  the  re- 
ligious life.  That  has  been  the  foundation  of  all  of  its 
forms,  and  so  must  remain  as  long  as  the  name  itself 
endures.  The  church  must  continue  to  emphasize  this 
motive.  Personal  leadership  and  personal  loyalty  are  at 
the  heart  of  every  great  movement  in  human  society.  But 
beyond  this  personal  loyalty  to  Jesus,  social  Christianity 
sees  the  loyalty  to  the  cause  which  he  represents.  The 
supreme  motive  in  Jesus  himself  was  the  love  of  hu- 
manity— it  was  redeeming  love — and  this  must  also  be 
the  supreme  motive  of  every  genuine  follower  of  his. 
This  love  of  humanity  must  be  the  moving  impulse  of  any 
religion  which  seeks  the  redemption  of  the  world.  It  is 
clearly  the  impulse  of  Jesus  himself.  The  church  must 
throw  its  supreme  emphasis,  then,  upon  the  love  of,  and 
the  loyalty  to,  the  Great  Community — humanity.  This 


306    THE  KECONSTKUCTIOtf  OF  KELIGIOJST 

means  loyalty  to  all  truth,  to  all  right,  to  all  betterment, 
and  so  to  God  himself.  This  is  the  motive  to  which  the 
church  must  make  appeal  in  its  work  of  creating  a  public 
conscience  which  shall  make  possible  a  Christian  world. 
It  is  no  impracticable  motive.  It  is  the  motive  which  has 
inspired  the  greatest  and  best  of  our  race,  from  Jesus 
down  to  the  present ;  it  is  the  motive  of  every  great  move- 
ment to  which  we  can  give  our  whole-hearted  assent.  It 
is  this  motive,  which  is  growing  ever  larger  and  more 
powerful  with  the  passing  years,  upon  which  social  re- 
ligion would  build  its  idealistic  faith.  The  Christian 
church  undertakes  no  impossible  task.  It  summons  men 
to  devotion  to  no  impracticable  ideal.  A  Christian  world 
is  not  only  practicable;  in  the  long  run  it  will  be  found 
that  no  other  sort  is  practicable. 


APPENDIX 

"THE  SOCIAL  CEEED  OF  THE  CHURCHES" 

THE  following  statement  was  adopted  by  the  Federal 
Council  of  Churches  of  Christ  in  America  in  1908,  and 
has  since  been  adopted  by  the  leading  Protestant  denomi- 
nations, the  Y.  M.  C.  A.,  and  the  Y.  W.  C.  A. 

This  creed  reads  as  follows: 

(1)  Equal  rights  and  justice  for  all  men  and  in  all 
stations  of  life. 

(2)  Protection  of  the  family  by  the  single  standard 
of  purity,  uniform  divorce  laws,  proper  regula- 
tion of  marriage,  proper  housing. 

(3)  The  fullest  possible  development  of  every  child, 
especially   by    the   provision    of    education    and 
recreation. 

(4)  Abolition  of  child  labor. 

(5)  Such   regulation   of   the    conditions   of   toil   for 
women  as  shall  safeguard  the  physical  and  moral 
health  of  the  community. 

(6)  Abatement  and  prevention  of  poverty. 

(7)  Protection  of  the  individual  and  society  from  the 
social,  economic,  and  moral  waste  of  the  liquor 
traffic. 

(8)  Conservation  of  health. 

(9)  Protection   of  the  worker   from   dangerous   ma- 
chinery, occupational  diseases  and  mortality. 

(10)   The  right  of  all  men  to  the  opportunity  for  self- 
maintenance,  for  safeguarding  this  right  against 
encroachments  of  every  kind,  for  the  protection 
307 


308  APPENDIX 

of  workers  from  the  hardships  of  enforced  un- 
employment. 

(11)  The  right  of  employees  and  employers  alike  to 
organize,  and  for  adequate  means  of  conciliation 
and  arbitration  in  industrial  disputes. 

(12)  Suitable  provision  for  the  old  age  of  the  workers, 
and  for  those  incapacitated  by  injury. 

(13)  Release  from  employment  one  day  in  seven. 

(14)  Gradual   and   reasonable  reduction   of   hours   of 
labor  to  the  lowest  practicable  point,  and  for  that 
degree  of  leisure  for  all  which  is  a  condition  of 
the  highest  human  life. 

(15)  A  living  wage  as  the  minimum  in  every  industry, 
and  for  the  highest  wage  that  each  industry  can 
afford. 

(16)  A  new  emphasis  upon  the  application  of  Christian 
principles  to  the  acquisition  and  use  of  property, 
and  for  the  most  equitable  division  of  the  product 
of  industry  that  can  ultimately  be  devised. 

At  the  meeting  of  the  Federal  Council  in  1919  the  fol- 
lowing four  amendments  were  added  to  the  above  "creed." 
Facing  the  social  issues  involved  in  reconstruction: 
RESOLVED:  That  we  affirm  as  Christian  Churches, 
(1)   That   the   teachings    of   Jesus   are   those   of   es- 
sential democracy  and  express  themselves  through 
brotherhood   and  the  co-operation  of  all  groups, 
^v.     We  deplore  class  struggle,  and  declare  against  all 
class  dominion,  whether  of  capital  or  labor.   Sym- 
pathizing with  labor's  desire  for  a  better  day  and 
an  equitable  share  in  the  profits  and  management 
of  industry,  we  stand  for  orderly  and  progressive 
social    reconstruction    instead    of    revolution    by 
violence. 


^  APPENDIX  309 

(2)  That  an  ordered  and  constructive  democracy  in 
industry  is  as  necessary  as  political  democracy, 
and  that  collective  bargaining  and  the  sharing  of 
shop  control  and  management  are  inevitable  steps 
in  its  attainment. 

(3)  That  the  first  charge  upon  industry  should  be  that 
of    a   wage    sufficient   to    support    an   American 
standard  of  living.     To  that  end  we  advocate  the 
guarantee  of  a  minimum  wage,  the  control  of  un- 
employment through  government  labor  exchanges, 
public  works,   land   settlement,   social   insurance 
and   experimentation   in   profit   sharing  and  co- 
operative ownership. 

(4)  We  recognize  that  women  played  no  small  part 
in  the  winning  of  the  war.    We  believe  that  they 
should  have  full  political  and  economic  equality 
with  equal  pay  for  equal  work,  and  a  maximum 
eight-hour  day.     We  declare  for  the  abolition  of 
night  work  by  women,  and  the  abolition  of  child 
labor;   and   for  the  provision  of  adequate   safe- 
guards to  insure  the  moral  as  well  as  the  physical 
health  of  the  mothers  and  children  of  the  race. 

At  the  meeting  of  the  Federal  Council  in  Chicago,  De- 
cember 16,  1921,  the  following  declaration  of  Interna- 
tional Ideals  was  adopted : 

(1)  We  believe  that  nations  no  less  than  individuals 
are  subject  to  God's  immutable  moral  laws. 

(2)  We   believe   that   nations   achieve   true   welfare, 
greatness,  and  honor  only  through  just  dealing 
and  unselfish  service. 

(3)  We  believe  that  nations  that  regard  themselves  as 
Christian  have  special  international  obligations. 

(4)  We  believe  that  the  spirit  of  Christian  brother- 


310  APPENDIX 

liness  can  remove  every  unjust  barrier  of  trade, 
color,  creed,  and  race. 

(5)  We  believe  that  Christian  patriotism  demands  the 
practice  of  good  will  between  nations. 

(6)  We  believe  that  international  policies  should  se- 
cure equal  justice  for  all  races. 

(7)  We  believe  that  all  nations  should  associate  them- 
selves permanently  for  world  peace  and  good  will. 

(8)  We  believe  in  international  law,  and  in  the  uni- 
versal use  of  international  courts  of  justice  and 
boards  of  arbitration. 

(9)  We  believe  in  a  sweeping  reduction  of  armaments 
by  all  nations. 

(10)  We  believe  in  a  warless  world,  and  dedicate  our- 
selves to  its  achievement. 

Essentially  similar  statements  have  been  promulgated 
by  the  Administrative  Committee  of  the  National  Catholic 
War  Council  in  America  and  by  the  Central  Conference 
of  American  Rabbis.  A  critical  summary  of  the  various 
social  programs  of  different  religious  bodies  will  be  found 
in  Ward,  The  New  Social  Order,  Chapter  XL 


INDEX 


Abnormal  classes,  help  of,   167; 

marriage  of,  200,  201. 
Abstraction,  power  of,  40,  50. 
Acquired  character,  63,  189,  190, 

192,  266. 

Adams,  Henry,  cited,  73,  111. 
Adaptation,  8,  9,  37,  38,  41,  133, 

155;    religion  as  an  organ  of, 

37,  38,  41,  55,  133,  155. 
Addams,    Jane,    cited,    267,    268, 

270. 

Adler,  Felix,  cited,  207. 
Advertising,  church,  301. 
Agnosticism,    1,    22,    25,    31,    40, 

124,  125,  127. 
Altruism,  9,  67,  106,  168-178,  181, 

190,  191,  199,  207. 
Ames,  E.  S.,  cited,  42,  57,  58,  60, 

160. 

American  Indians,  49,  50. 
American    religion,    13,    25,    115, 

121-124,  287. 
American    social    conditions,    21, 

22,  94,  102,  106,  112,  115,  194, 

214,  215,  287. 
Amusements,     social,     102,    264- 

279. 

Ancestor  worship,  24,  48,  52. 
Animatism,  49,  note. 
Animism,  24,  45,  46,  48-51. 
Anthropology,  x,  xii,  34,  49,  61, 

70,  71,  76,  140,  145,  220,  259. 
Anthropomorphism,  52,  140. 
Applied  social  science,  ix,  xi,  161. 
Archaeology,  71,  80. 
Aristotle,  cited,  97,  164. 
Art,  52,  98,  109,  117,  276,  277. 
Asceticism,    165,    198,    208,    270, 

271,    278,    279;    definition    of, 

270. 
Atheism,  7,  25,  46,  250. 


311 


Attitudes,  social,  40,  46,  161-186, 
189,  213,  226;  negative,  46, 
111,  112,  124;  religious,  26,  40, 
47,  120,  126,  154,  155,  211. 

Authority,  external,  100,  101, 
251. 


B 


Bacon,  B.  W.,  cited,  88. 

Bahaism,  68. 

Ballantine,  W.  G.,  cited,  302. 

Barbarism,  definition  of,  71,  97; 
traditions  of,  in  modern  society, 
72,  73,  86,  97,  110,  293;  re- 
crudescence of,  75,  95,  98,  100, 
101,  102,  116,  117,  193,  212, 
244,  266,  294. 

Bargy,  Henry,  cited,  121. 

Bartlet,  J.  V.,  cited,  221. 

Barton,  G.  A.,  cited,  47. 

Batten,  S.  Z.,  cited,  290. 

Behavior,  human,  34,  37,  60,  149, 
182,  266,  293,  305. 

Beliefs,  religious,  4,  11,  13,  14, 
16,  22,  34-69,  104,  130,  132. 

Bergson,  H.,  10. 

Bible,  place  of,  in  Christianity, 
xii,  152-154;  proper  use  of,  88, 
153,  154;  criticism  of,  101,  154. 

Biological  elements  in  human 
life,  111,  163,  198-203,  265. 

Bismarck,  103. 

Boas,  F.,  cited,  49. 

Bowne,  Borden  P.,  cited,  133. 

Branford,  Victor,  cited,  vii. 

Brightman,  E.  S.,  cited,  132. 

Brown,  W.  Adams,  cited,   113. 

Buddhism,  1,  46,  68,  146,  150. 

Bury,  J.  B.,  cited,  36. 

Butler,  Samuel,  108. 

Business,  anti-Christian,  21,  102- 
107,  114. 


312 


INDEX 


Caird,  Edward,  cited,  47,  125. 

Capitalism,  105,  217,  227. 

Carpenter,  Edward,  cited,  13,  45, 
47,  71,  198,  262. 

Carver,  T.  N.,  cited,  162,  216, 
236. 

Case,  S.  J.,  cited,  70,  77,  82,  146. 

Catholic  church,  284,  285,  310. 

Channing,  W.  E.,  cited,  122. 

Character,  individual,  how 
formed,  104,  189,  190,  210,  243, 
264,  293;  importance  of,  253, 
287,  291. 

Charity,  28,  167. 

Chastity,  199,  203. 

Child,  sociological  significance  of, 
204-206;  and  Christianity,  207, 
208. 

Chinese,  53. 

Christ,  see  Jesus. 

Christian  democracy,  263. 

Christian  ideals,  see  Ideals. 

Christian  movement,  the,  70,  77, 
82,  83,  299. 

Christianity,  definition,  1,  70; 
origin  of,  70-82;  social  signifi- 
cance of,  70-92;  social  charac- 
ter of,  76-81,  84,  01,  137,  181- 
187;  Greek  element  in,  80;  re- 
lation to  Judaism,  69,  77,  80, 
87;  to  Oriental  religions,  80; 
humanitarian  nature  of,  76-92, 
183-187;  historical,  39,  85-89, 
186;  in  Western  civilization, 
83-89,  90,  93,  99,  108,  115,  118; 
positive,  119-160;  essentials  of, 
78-84,  181-187;  and  the  family, 
194,  207-209;  and  industry, 
211-213,  241,  242;  and  politics, 
245,  262,  263 ;  and  amusements, 
267,  278,  279;  revolutionary 
character  of,  77,  79,  130,  304. 

Church,  present  condition  of,  ix, 
1,  2,  113,  282;  opportunity  of, 
280-306;  union  of,  283-285; 
membership,  159,  286;  Pagan- 
ism in,  86,  92,  98,  114,  286; 
and  religion  of  Jesus,  13,  85-88, 
08,  282,  286;  social  necessity 


of,  131,  280,  281;  and  public 
opinion,  290-304;  and  religious 
education,  287-289,  302,  303; 
social  function  of,  131,  280- 
290. 

Churches,  Federal  Council  of,  in 
America,  291,  307;  social  creed 
of,  211,  291,  307. 

Civilization,  definition,  71,  72; 
nature  of,  34,  61-63,  71-74, 
107;  relation  to  religion,  34, 
54-64,  75;  reversions  in,  16, 
73,  95,  117;  problem  of  our,  93, 
100;  present  condition,  93-118, 
193,  293;  reconstruction  of,  3, 
93,  291;  Christian,  93,  117, 
118,  290-304. 

Class  strife,  106,  107,  171-173, 
257,  258. 

Classes,  social  relations  of,  106, 
171,  222;  social  necessity  of, 
221,  222. 

Codrington,  R.  H.,  cited,  49. 

Coe,  G.  A.,  cited,  xiii,  10,  114, 
152,  155,  161,  287,  298,  303. 

Coit,  S.,  cited,  viii. 

Communal  character  of  religion, 
36,  43,  47,  280. 

Communism,  219,  220,  225-227. 

Community  life,  129,  161,  167, 
169,  171,  182,  189,  274,  305. 

Comparative  religion,  48. 

Comte,  Auguste,  cited,  20,  29,  44, 
63,  119,  120,  121,  122,  125, 
132,  140,  141,  158,  171. 

Conflict,  necessity  of  minimizing, 
91,  117,  171,  216,  246,  256, 
258;  between  classes,  16,  67, 
106,  171,  213,  216,  230,  246, 
256-258;  between  nations,  16, 
103,  172,  246,  259-261 ;  between 
races,  16,  67,  172,  259;  between 
Christianity  and  paganism,  18, 
75,  76,  79,  86,  98-101,  117,  118. 

Conflicting  ideals  of  our  civiliza- 
tion, viii,  11-16,  75,  98-118; 
293. 

Confusion  of  the  present,  11-17, 
99,  100. 

Conklin,  E.  G.,  cited,  2,  24,  46, 
60,  100,  134,  159. 


INDEX 


313 


Consciousness,  religious,  48-55, 
125,  126,  132,  133,  137. 

Consciousness  of  kind,  72,  76, 
169. 

Consecration,  in  religion,  44,  47, 
117,  159,  166,  203,  286. 

Conservation  of  social  values,  24, 
38,  60,  65,  114,  193. 

Conservative  tendencies  of  re- 
ligion, 52,  55-65. 

Consumption  of  wealth,  239,  240. 

Control,  social,  religion  as  a 
means  of,  12,  42,  47,  50,  52,  55, 
56-63,  87,  101,  203,  268,  270, 
291;  need  of  more,  29,  43,  64, 
291,  292. 

Conversion,  religious,  289. 

Cooley,  C.  H.,  cited,  44,  81,  169, 
188,  191,  192,  250,  262,  266, 
292. 

Co-operation,  maximization  of,  91, 
163-169,  171,  173,  231,  232;  be- 
tween classes,  167,  222,  225, 
230-235;  among  churches,  121, 
131,  283-285. 

Creative  evolution,  136,  138. 

Crime,  170,  175,  190. 

Crises,  function  of  religion  in,  37, 
38,  41,  42,  43,  76. 

Criticism,  social  function  of,  3; 
destructive,  95,  101,  103,  108, 
113,  154. 

Criticism,  higher,  145,  146,  153, 
154. 

Cultural  evolution,  16,  61,  70-75; 
function  of  religion  in,  55-64, 
75-77. 

Culture,  definition,  12,  71;  rela- 
tion of  religion  to,  34,  54-64, 
75,  76;  see  also  Reversions  in 
culture. 

Custom,  definition,  61;  relation 
of  religion  to,  34,  35,  55,  61- 
63. 


Darwin,  Charles,  90,  188. 
Deism,  25. 

Democracy,  origin  of,  81,  248;  in 
social  life,  247,  252-259;  in  in- 


dustry, 232-234,  258;  in  poli- 
tics, 249,  251-263;  and  Chris- 
tianity, 71,  81,  248,  262,  263; 
and  religion,  viii,  2,  248-251, 
257,  262. 

"Democracy  of  God,"  161. 

Denominations,  relations  of,  283, 
297. 

Determinism,  economic,  210; 
mechanistic,  111. 

Dickinson,  G.  Lowes,  cited,  vii. 

Discipline,  social,  see  Morale. 

Discussion,  public,  254,  296-298, 
300. 

Distribution  of  wealth,  214-216, 
222,  223,  227-229,  236,  239. 

Divorce,  21,  102,  206,  208. 

Dogma,  theological,  39,  121,  126, 
142. 

Doubt,  14,  30,  120. 

Durkheim,  Emile,  cited,  27,  34, 
37,  51,  52. 


E 


Ecclesiasticism,  29,  39,  83,  120. 
Economic  conditions,  11,  86,  104, 

210-242;   and  Christianity,  86, 

105,  212,  217,  241,  242. 
Economic  determinism,  210. 
Economics,    163,    164,    210,    212, 

214,  219,  221,  223,  241. 
Education,   social,  202,  253,  254, 

265,  269,  274,  302;  see  also  Re- 
ligious education. 
Educational  conditions,  107,  116, 

234,  240,  254,  265,  274,  288. 
Educational      function      of      the 

church,  287-289,  302-304. 
Egoism,   19,   67,  75,  96,  99,   174, 

179,    180,    191,    220;    see   also 

Group  egoism. 
Egoistic  theory  of  human  nature, 

96,  105,  179,  212,  268,  305. 
Elhvood,  C.  A.,  cited,  xii,  3,  9,  11, 

14,  16,  25,  38,  73,  74,  169,  173, 

190,  238,  290,  292. 
Ely,  R.  T.,  cited,  162.  221. 
Emery,  H.  C.,  cited,  91. 
Emotional    element    in    religion, 


314 


INDEX 


viii,  7,  8,  40,  42,  75,  136,  152, 

168,  170,  296,  305. 
Emotionalism,  152,  289,  296. 
Eneloe,  H.  G.,  cited,  151,  284. 
Enthusiasm  of  humanity,  84,  218, 

259. 
Environment,     influence    of,     87, 

190,  210,  264;    social,  87,   190, 

210,  293,  304;   Christian,  294, 

304. 

Epicureans,  97. 
Equality,  233,  247,  248,  250;   of 

opportunity,  223,  233-236,  239, 

247. 
Eschatological     view     of     Jesus' 

teaching,  83,  84,  150,  154. 
Eskimo,  communism  of,  220. 
Ethical  Religion,  26,  54,  55,  64, 

66,  77,  128. 
Ethics   and   religion,   55,   56,   62, 

64,  128,  161,  162;  see  Humani- 
tarian religion. 
Eucken,  R.,  cited,  46,  82. 
Eugenics  and  religion,  200-203. 
Europe,    religious    condition    of, 

13,  112,  115. 
Evil,    problem    of,    68,    134,    135, 

143,  156. 
Evolution,  social,  24,  35,  54,  71- 

76,    81,   92,    138;    cultural,    16, 

61,  70-75;   religious,  24-27,  47- 

54,  69,  75,  81,  83. 
Exchange    of    services,    163-167, 

176,   213;    basis  of  social  life, 

38,  163,  176. 
Experience,  as  a  basis  of  religion, 

3,  8,  30,  58,  119,  120. 


F 


Faith,  xii,  27,  30,  31,  46,  60,  130, 
135,  142,  146,  161,  305. 

Family,  the  importance  of,  as  a 
primary  group,  21,  188-193; 
source  of  religious  ideals,  66, 
81,  191,  193;  present  condition, 
21,  105,  108,  193-203;  and  so- 
cial religion,  188-209. 

Fear,  22,  31,  172,  216,  244,  246, 
305. 


Feeling  element  in  religion,  see 
Emotional  element. 

Fellowship,  human,  79,  138,  143, 
163,  170-177,  230. 

Figgis,  J.  N.,  cited,  18,  19. 

Fitch,  A.  P.,  cited,  1,  8,  87. 

Follett,  Mary  P.,  cited,  248,  291. 

Food,  importance  of,  164,  210. 

Force,  limits  of  use,  153,  172, 
173,  174,  175,  243,  259-261. 

Forgiveness,    174-176,  209. 

Fraternity,  78,  118,  121,  125,  167, 
168-173,  181,  184,  192,  216,  232, 
248,  250,  255,  262. 

Frazer,  J.  G.,  cited,  51. 

Free  society,  28,  112,  157,  247- 
263. 

Freedom  of  though t  and  speech, 
157,  247,  254,  255,  296-298. 
300. 

French  Revolution,  102. 

Friday,  David,  cited,  215. 

Function  of  religion,  34-47;  55- 
66;  of  early  religion,  27,  49- 
52;  in  the  life  of  the  individ- 
ual, 27,  37,  38,  40,  41,  44;  in 
social  control,  42,  55-65;  social 
progress,  66,  67,  74-76. 

Future  life,  see  Immortality. 


Galton,  Francis,  cited,  202. 
Gautama    Buddha,    1,    146,    150, 

172. 

Geddes,  P.,  cited,  vii. 
German  civilization,  21,  84,  104, 

109,  112,  116,  245. 
German  higher  criticism,  83,  84, 

154. 

German  theology,  83,  84. 
Germany,  in  the  Great  War,  21, 

24,  103,  112;  rehabilitation  of, 

116,  note. 

Geographic  influences,  80,  103. 
Giddings,  F.  IT.,  cited,  169,  292. 
Glover,  T.  R.,  cited,  86,  146. 
God,     definition,     54,     136,     137; 

Christian     conception     of,     84, 

137,    138-140;    subjective   con- 


INDEX 


315 


ception  of,  125,  132,  133;  and 
nature,  133-137;  and  humanity, 
132,  137-140;  philosophical 
necessity  of,  26,  135,  136; 
origin  of  idea,  50,  52,  53,  54, 
57. 

GoUK'iiweiser,  A.  A.,  cited,  51. 

Good  will,  social  importance  of, 
ix,  29,  60,  62,  170-175,  254,  261  ; 
between  classes,  172,  255,  257; 
between  nations,  172,  246,  248, 
261 ;  and  religion,  ix,  29,  60, 
62,  83,  168-176,  261;  Chris- 
tianity, a  religion  of,  78,  83, 

92,  118,  159,  168,  181. 
'Gospels,    Christianity    of,    xii, 

93,  118,    143,    145,    147,    153, 
184. 

Government  and  religion,  28,  34, 

65,  104,  243-263. 
Great  Britain,  103,  116. 
Greece,  ancient,  civilization,  96; 

philosophy,   97,    110;    influence 

on  modern  world,  98,  100. 
Greek  Catholic  Church,  284. 
Greek  ideals  of  life,  96,  97,  110. 
Group,  importance  of,  42,  60,  66, 

81,  129,  144,  188,  189,  243,  290; 

organization,     243,     246,     247, 

252. 
Group  egoism,  95,  171,  172,  256- 

258. 

Group  morality,  72,  77,  83. 
Group  salvation,  80,  83,  144,  161, 

184. 
Groups,  primary,  21,  66,  81,  188- 

192,  248. 
Guyan,  J.  M.,  cited,  25. 


Habit,  influence  of,  14,  15,  34,  60, 

61,    75,   266;    and   civilization, 

34,  61,  64,  189,  267. 
Hall,  G.  Stanley,  cited,  132,  155. 
Harrison,     Frederic,     cited,     yii, 

xviii. 
Harrison,  Jane  E.,  cited,  25,  42, 

47. 
Hart,  J.  K.,  cited,  80,  81. 


Hastings'   Encyclopedia   of  Reli- 
gion and  Ethics,  33,  52,  184. 
Hatred,  170,  172,  174,  216. 
Haydon,  A.  E.,  cited,  132. 
Hayes,  E.  C.,  cited,  86,  108. 
Health,  200,  235,  265,  272,  287. 
Hebrews,  see  Jews. 
Hedonistic    ethics,     14,     37,    38, 

114,    194,    267,    269. 
Henotheism,  23,  25,  26,  48,  53. 
Heredity,  control  of,  200-202. 
Hero  worship,   52. 
Historical    Christianity,    39,    85- 

89,    186,   270. 
Historical  influences,  76,  81,  85- 

89. 
History,   human,   nature   of,    16, 

73,    95. 
History  of  religion,  24,  48-54,  68, 

69. 
Hobhouse,  L.  T.,  cited,  xii,  3,  4, 

6,  8,  9,  10,  22,  27,  67,  99,  116, 

136,  139,  168,  221,  225,  248. 
Hocking,    W.    E.,    cited,    4,    114, 

186. 

Holmes,  J.  H.,  cited,  93,  137. 
Hostility,    minimizing,    91,    172, 

246,   248,   258. 
Hubbard,  A.  J.,  cited,  35. 
Hudson,  J.  W.,  cited,   14,   102. 
Humanitarianism,  definition,   67, 

68;    relation    to    Christianity, 

76,    77,    83,    84,    121-124,    160, 

208 ;  in  the  nineteenth  century, 

114,  116. 
Humanitarian  ethics,  43,  67,  77, 

80,  81,  99,  100,  116,   160,   176, 

180,    211,   251,    272. 
Humanitarian  religion,  43,  67,  68, 

69,  77,  80,  87,  89,  120-160,  170, 

172,    181,    208,    218,    246,    250, 

261,    272,    305;    see    also    Hu- 
manity, religion  of. 
Humanity,   definition,   67;    unity 

of    ethical    valuations,    43,    44, 

180,    183;    religion   of,   67,    89, 

120,  121,  124,  160,  172,  180. 
Human    nature,    definition,    206;  I  S^  j 

influence  of,  15,  100,  253,  2f.- 

268;   theories  of,  96,   105,  169,  >> 

174,    179,    212,    305. 


316 


INDEX 


Idealism,  social,  66,  81,  126,  192, 
257,  262,  281;  relation  to  re- 
ligion, 42,  54,  66,  77,  83,  193, 
281. 

Ideals,  social  function  of,  61,  74, 
89,  90,  104;  conflict  of,  11,  14, 
75,  85,  98,  99,  100,  101,  117; 
sources  of,  21,  66,  81,  188,  191. 

Ideals,  Christian,  18,  77-84,  99- 
103,  108,  115,  117,  118,  125, 
128,  130,  153,  155,  185. 

Ideas,  pattern,  61,  66,  74,  98, 
173,  191,  248. 

Idolatry,  53. 

Ignorance,  sociological,  70,  88, 
202. 

Imitation,  influence  of,  60,  174. 

Immoralism,  96,  108,  243. 

Immortality,  belief  in,  132,  140- 
143;  origin  of  idea,  51,  58; 
necessity  of  idea,  58,  142;  per- 
sonal, 142,  143. 

Impulse  in  religion,  7,  8,  79,  note. 

Impulses,  animal,  15,  197,  198, 
202,  266,  267,  268,  270,  275. 

Income,  214,  229,  237;  of  peo- 
ple of  United  States,  214,  222, 
223,  240. 

Individual  as  a  social  factor,  17, 
43,  82,  100,  129,  145;  value  of, 
77,  82,  129,  145,  166,  167,  180, 
183,  287;  relation  of  religion 
to,  27,  29,  34,  36,  40,  41,  44, 
62,  129,  131,  166,  183,  287. 

Individualism  in  modern  civiliza- 
tion, 19,  87,  88,  101,  102,  110, 
113,  129,  131,  193,  194,  198, 
207,  208,  212,  224,  244,  255, 
267. 

Industry,  modern,  and  Christian- 
ity, 12,  21,  104-107,  195-197, 
210-242. 

Infinite,  the,  as  God,  54,  133. 

Inspiration,    10,    88. 

Institutions,  social,  14,  62,  64, 
73,  80,  89,  161,  163,  184,  206; 
Church  as  an,  39,  131,  280-305. 

Intellectual  element  in  rolipion, 
3-11,  31,  38,  40,  75,  127-152, 


159,  218,  288,  289,  298,  299, 
302-304. 

Intellectualistic  theories  of  re- 
ligion, 4. 

Intelligence  and  social  progress, 
3,  7,  24,  74,  88,  170;  in  reli- 
gion, 3,  7,  31,  64,  75,  92,  114, 
148,  218,  298;  see  also  Reason 
and  Social  Science. 

Interdependence,  social,  12,  29, 
38,  163,  171;  international,  12, 
171-173,  186,  246,  260. 

International  relations,  12,  24, 
102,  112,  115,  117,  118,  171- 
173,  186,  245,  246,  259-261. 

Intuition,  10,  11. 

Invention,   11,  24,   61,  74. 

Irrationalism,  4,  7,  9,  15,  22. 


James,  William,  cited,  34,  37, 
155. 

Jastrow,  Morris,  cited,  284. 

Japanese,  21,   115. 

Jesus,  religion  of,  1,  77,  82,  84, 
146;  personality  of,  82,  147- 
149;  founder  of  Christianity, 
77,  82,  146;  historicity  of, 
145,  146;  as  a  social  philoso- 

?her,  91,  159;  as  a  thinker, 
48,  note,  159;  as  Messiah, 
146;  as  moral  leader  and 
savior  of  mankind,  82,  91,  92, 
143,  147-152,  181-186,  207- 
209,  241,  242,  262,  263,  285, 
305. 

Jewish  ethics,  69,  81,  148. 

Jewish  opinion,  modern,  123,  151, 
284,  310. 

Jewish  synagogue  and  Christian 
church,  283,  284. 

Jews,  religious  genius  of,  69,  80, 
81. 

Judaism,  69,  77,  80;  and  Chris- 
tianity, 77,  80,  81. 

Justice,  social,  78,  83,  85,  95, 
130,  178,  230,  233,  234,  249, 
261 ;  necessity  of,  210,  233, 
242,  261;  inadequacy  of,  178. 


INDEX 


317 


Kant,  Immanuel,  cited,  4,  8,  143. 

Kent,    C.    F.,   cited,   88. 

Kidd,    Benjamin,    cited,    viii,    9. 

King,  W.  I.,  cited,  214,  222. 

King,  H.  C.,  cited,  88. 

Kingdom  of  God,  definition,  78, 
184;  a  social  conception,  78, 
84,  129,  161,  182-185,  263;  a 
spiritual  ideal,  129,  184. 

Kinship,  sentiment  of,  52,  255. 


Labor,  modern  condition  of,  106, 
213-216,  236;  social  worth  of, 
228,  229;  exploitation  of,  106, 
213,  216,  236;  and  Christian- 
ity, 229,  241,  242;  creative, 
228,  229,  237. 

Labor  movement,  106,  107,  232, 
235,  307,  308. 

Laissez-faire  attitude,  255. 

Law,  social,  62,  90,  134,  135,  159, 
182. 

Laws  of  nature,  134,  139,  182. 

Leadership,  social,  75,  82,  149, 
159,  298,  305;  religious,  82, 
113,  149,  276,  282,  290,  305; 
of  Jesus,  82,  92,  149,  150,  151, 
159,  182,  305. 

League  of  Nations,  172,  260. 

Li'iiba,  J.  H.,  cited,  13,  25,  36, 
47,  50,  114. 

Likemindedness,  social  value  of, 
ix,  42,  59,  170,  174,  251,  254, 
255,  259,  261. 

Literature,  modern,  101,  107,  108. 

Love,  definition,  168,  181;  as  an 
ethical  principle,  78,  84,  92, 
168-176,  207;  of  humanity,  83, 
84,  169-176,  183,  305;  sacri- 
ficial, 172-178,  305;  sexual, 
197-207,  208;  parental,  199, 
204,  208 ;  as  central  principle 
of  Christianity,  78,  83,  84,  92, 
125,  150,  181,  304,  305. 

Loyalty,  as  an  ethical  principle, 
39,  42,  60,  131,  143,  149,  182, 
183. 


Luxury  In  modern  life,  102,  165, 

213,  236,  240,  241,  269. 
Lyman,  E.  W.,  cited,  127,  136. 


M 


Machiavelli,  Niccolo,  18,  19,  96, 

97,  99,  104,  112,  244. 
Machiavellian    politics,    21,    29, 

103,  104,  116,  244. 
Magic,  22,  35,  36,  43. 
Maladjustments,  social,  167,  168, 

194,  195-197,  202,  213-216,  234- 

236,  249. 
Man,  religious  nature  of,  26,  29, 

37,  38,  40,  41,  44,  47,  64,  66, 

135;   social  nature  of,  42,  71, 

170,  171. 

Mana,  45,  49,  56. 
Manaism,  24,  49-51. 
Manitou,  45,  49. 
Marett,  R.  R.,  cited,  35,  47,  48, 

49,  55. 

Marriage,  22,  102,  193-208. 
Marx,  Karl,  106. 
Material  conditions,  86,  164,  165, 

195-197,  210-242. 
Materialism,   46,    103,    111,    112, 

126,    136,    140,    165,    196,    225, 

250. 
Materialistic   standards,    14,    19, 

101-103,  213,  214,  250;  see  also 

Materialism. 

Mathews,  Shailer,  cited,  88. 
McConnell,  F.  J.,  cited,  102,  298. 
Mechanistic        conceptions        in 

science,  6,  45,  46,  111,  134,  136. 
Mecklin,  J.  M.,  cited,  248,  293. 
Metaphysics,  20,  29,  39,  111,  122, 

126,  127. 
Metaphysical    problems,    I,    26, 

111,  124,  126,  132-143. 
Methodist  movement,  76. 
Methods,  in  science,  6,  30. 
Militarism,   effects   of,    103,    104, 

118,    245,    259-261;    origin   of, 

71,  74,  79. 
Millenarianism,  86. 
Mind,   social,  63,  252,  295,  296; 

see  also  Public  opinion. 
Minimum  wage,  235. 


318 


INDEX 


Missions,  Christian,  186. 
Mohammedanism,  68,  154. 
Monogamy,  194-207. 
Monotheism,  23,  25-27,  54. 
Moral  confidence,  26,  37,  41,  135. 
Moral  conflicts,  see  Conflict. 
Moral  ideals,  see  Ideals,  social. 
Moral  order,  see  Order,  moral. 
Moral  standards,  56,  62,  75,  102, 

104,  110,  114,  see  also  Ideals; 

of  Christianity,  78,  84,  91;  of 

Paganism,  96,  99,  110. 
Morale,  social,  179,  180,  181,  253, 

268-271. 
Morality,   idealistic,   64,   66,  67; 

customary,  55,  56,  60,  62. 
Morality    and    religion,    55,    56, 

62,  64,  67,  128,  161,  162. 
Mores,  the,  definition,  34,  61 ;  so- 
cial power  of,  34,  75,  103,  293; 

relation  to  religion,  34,  55,  56, 

62,  79;   re-making  of,  75,  292, 

293,  294. 
Motivation,   social,   ix,    149,    156, 

170,  305,  306. 
Mysticism,    definition,    113,    114; 

danger    of,    7,    31,    113,    114; 

place  in  religion,  4,  114,  123. 
Mythological  elements  in  religion, 

59,  120,  139. 


N 


National  egoism,  24,  104,  105, 
171-173,  245,  256,  259-261. 

National  groups,  16,  24,  102-104, 
115,  118,  172,  243-263. 

National  stage  of  religion,  23,  25, 
53. 

Natural  laws,  see  Laws  of  Na- 
ture. 

Natural  science,  11,  111,  117, 
11!>,  136,  139;  see  also  Science. 

Nature,  as  related  to  God,  133, 
134,  137,  138;  worship  of,  53, 
133;  see  also  Human  nature. 

Nature  of  civilization,  see  Civili- 
zation. 

Nature  of  society,  see  Society. 

Negative  social  attitudes,  see  At- 
titudes, negative. 


Neighborhood  group,  the,  188. 

Neo-Paganism,  17,  18-21,  see 
Paganism. 

Neo-Rationalism,  see  Rational- 
ism. 

Newton,  J.  F.,  cited,  108. 

Nietzsche,  Friedrich,  18,  19,  20, 
33,  96,  97,  99,  109,  110,  112, 
262. 

Normal  life,  193,  195-197,  205, 
211,  234-236,  244,  247,  265,  279. 

Novicow,  J.,  cited,  38,  163. 


Objectivity,  demanded  by  re- 
ligion, 125,  132,  133,  134. 

Obligations,  social,  56,  100,  203, 
212,  224,  227,  241,  256. 

Optimism  and  religion,  23,  41, 
46. 

Order,  social,  55,  61,  65,  84, 
115;  and  religion,  55,  61-65, 
78,  84,  130,  183-185. 

Order,  moral,  134,  139,  156. 

Organization,  social,  61,  243;  of 
religious  life,  131,  180-305;  of 
good  will,  175,  255,  260,  261. 

Origin  of  religion,  34-55,  66. 


Paganism,  definition,  96,  98; 
moral  element  in,  96,  99,  100; 
recrudescence  of,  13,  22,  H 
117;  survival  of,  95-117,  244; 
in  politics,  103,  104,  244,  261; 
in  business,  102-107,  114;  in 
literature,  101,  107,  108;  in 
philosophy,  99,  110;  in  science, 
110-112;  in  the  church,  86,  92, 
98,  114,  286. 

Pantheism,  54. 

Parental  love,  199,  204,  208. 

Parenthood,  204-208. 

Passivity,  social,  68,  130,  150. 

Pathological     social     conditions, 
see  Maladjustments,  social. 

Patrick.  G.  T.  W.,  cited,  viii. 

Patriotism,  8,  179,  246. 

Patten,  W.,  cited,  111. 


INDEX 


319 


'attcrn    ideas,    61,    74,    98,    173, 

191,  248. 
'aul,  88. 
>eace,  social,  171,  173,  216,  248, 

258,    260;    international,    118, 

172,  173,  260,  261. 
'ersonality,    as    an    ethical    con- 
cept,   77,    143,    162,    181,    183, 
us  a  social  influence,  82, 

126,   129,   149,   167,   182. 
essimism,  15,  16,  23,  24,  41,  60, 

95. 

hilosophy,  modern,  6,  110. 
hilosophy,  social,  x. 
hysical  elements  in  human  life, 

86,   164,   197-202,  210-242,  265. 
lato,  cited,  79,  97. 
lay,      function      of,      264-279; 

necessity  of,  265;  degradation 

of,  266-269. 
leasure,  as  an  ethical  end,  97, 

99,  100,  101,  102,  110,  114,  193, 
267. 

leasure,    social,    99,    101,    264- 
279. 

olitical  corruption,   106,  245. 
olitical  life,  105,  243-263. 

Political  organization,  243-263; 
importance  of,  243,  246;  demo- 
cratic form  of,  247-263;  and 
Christianity,  248,  250,  262, 
263. 

Politics,  anti-Christian,  103,  104, 
114,  244,  245. 

Polygamy,  22. 

Polytheism,  53. 

Positive,  defined,  119. 

Positive  Christianity,   119-160. 

Positive  religion,  119-126,  127, 
138,  139. 

Positive  science,  30,  119,  126,  127, 
139. 

Positivism,  Comtean,  1,  46,  122, 
132. 

Power,  as  an  ethical  end,  97,  99, 

100,  101,    104,    110,    173,    244, 
246,  267. 

Power,  the  will  to,  2. 

Poverty,    moral    effects    of,    213, 

214,   216,   235;    elimination  of, 

234-239,  240. 


Pragmatism,  132. 

Prayer,  154-157. 

Press,  freedom  of,  254,  297; 
power  of,  300,  301;  religious, 
301. 

Predatory  traditions,  71,  75,  76, 
97,  98,  107,  110,  212. 

Primitive  man,  27,  71,  72;  re- 
ligion of,  27,  49-53,  55,  56. 

Production,  economic,  164,  222, 
223,  230. 

Progress,  social,  24,  38,  61,  73, 
74,  95,  167,  170,  190,  229;  re- 
ligion and,  64,  65-67,  75,  161, 
190;  Christianity  and,  75,  76, 
78,  83,  138. 

Progressive  religion,  30,  66,  126. 

Profits,  business  for,  21,  29, 
105. 

Property,  private,  necessity  of, 
219,  220,  224;  abuses  of,  102, 
105,  212-214,  240;  and  Chris- 
tianity, 211,  218,  227,  241; 
socialization  of,  220,  226. 

Prophetism,  290. 

Prophets,  the  Jewish,  69,  77,  80. 

Protestant  Reformation,  1,  76. 

Protestant  Christianity,  87,  113, 
283-285,  286,  291. 

Psychic  nature  of  culture,  61-63, 
74,  107;  of  human  society,  vii, 
11,  38,  61,  74. 

Psychology,  human,  33,  34,  41, 
145,  289,  301;  see  also  Be- 
havior, human. 

Psychology  of  religion,  33,  40-42, 
199. 

Public  conscience,  197,  276,  290- 

293,  301. 

Public  discussion,  see  Discussion, 

public. 

Public  health,  see  Health. 
Public    opinion,    definition,    252, 

294,  296;    power  of,  290,  291- 
293;     formation     of,     252-254, 
294-303;  guidance  of,  253,  290, 
296-303. 

Public  ownership,  221,  231,  232. 
Public  sentiment,  296. 
Public  worship,  see  Worship. 
Puritanism,  the  new,  271. 


320  INDEX 


Quakers,  mysticism  of,  113. 
R 

Races,  antagonism  of,  16,  67,  171, 
186,  259,  265. 

Racial  egoism,  172,  250,  259. 

Rational,  defined,  3. 

Rational  religion,  3,  5,  7,  8,  11, 
30,  31,  35,  55,  63,  92,  119-160. 

Rationalism,  the  new,  4,  8,  9,  31, 
136;  eighteenth-century,  7,  8, 
36. 

Ravage,  M.  E.,  cited,  123. 

Reason,  definition,  5,  8,  9;  func- 
tion of,  8,  9,  38;  in  religion,  4, 
7,  8,  9,  31,  38,  40. 

Reconciliation,  doctrine  of,  169, 
170,  172,  173,  247,  283. 

Reconstruction  of  religion,  3,  15, 
33,  70,  93,  119,  161,  210,  243, 
264,  282. 

Reconstruction,  social,  3,  15,  93, 
213;  of  the  family,  188-209;  of 
industry,  210-242;  of  govern- 
ment, 243-263 ;  of  social  amuse- 
ments, 264-279;  of  the  church, 
280-305. 

Recreation,  social,  necessity  of, 
265 ;  as  an  element  in  social 
pleasures,  272,  274,  295;  and 
the  church,  275-277. 

Redemption,  social,  78,  144,  166- 
168,  176,  242,  276,  290. 

Redemptive  religion,  78,  84,  87, 
127,  129,  144,  145,  158,  167, 
181,  183,  186,  242,  276,  290. 

Reformation  of  criminals,  170, 
175. 

Reformation,  the  New,  1. 

Reformation,  Protestant,  1,  76. 

Religion,  definition,  47,  as  an  ob- 
ject of  scientific  study,  3,  5,  33 ; 
reconstruction  of,  3,  92,  120- 
264;  in  revolution,  1-31;  and 
science,  2-32,  92,  120-160;  and 
reason,  4,  7-9,  37,  38,  40; 
origin  of,  34-55,  66;  evolution 
of,  24,  47-54,  69,  75;  primitive, 


27,  49-53,  55;  ethical,  26,  55, 
64,  66,  77,  128;  theistic,  25,  54, 
136,  137;  function  of,  34-47,  55- 
66;  psychology  of,  33,  40-42, 
199;  revival  of,  viii,  75,  282; 
social  significance  of,  33,  37, 
38-69,  75;  and  social  control, 
see  Control;  and  social  order, 
see  Order;  and  social  progress, 
see  Progress;  and  social  values, 
see  Values;  of  Jesus,  1,  77,  82, 
84;  and  Christianity,  see 
Christianity;  positive,  119-160; 
and  the  family,  188-209;  and 
business,  210-242;  and  politics, 
243-263;  and  amusements,  264- 
279;  see  also  Church. 

Religious  education,  269,  279, 
287-289,  302-304. 

Religious  problem,  the,  20,  26, 
64. 

Religious  psychosis,  33,  36. 

Religious  Revolution,  the,  ix,  1, 
2,  12,  14,  16,  21,  23,  24,  26,  31, 
131,  304. 

Religious  unity,  282-286. 

Renaissance,  the,  99,  102. 

Renunciation,  doctrine  of,  68,  85, 
99,  note. 

Revivals  of  religion,  75. 

Reversions  to  barbarism,  75,  95- 
117,  193,  212,  244,  266,  294; 
to  paganism,  13,  20,  22,  93- 
117;  in  culture,  15,  16,  21,  22, 
23. 

Revolutions,  15,  76,  77,  130,  217; 
see  also  Religious  Revolu- 
tion. 

Rhys-Davids,  cited,  172. 

Rights,  scientific  view  of,  223, 
224,  255,  256. 

Ritual,  157. 

Roman  civilization,  79,  80,  96- 
102. 

Rome,  ethical  influence  of,  96- 
102;  political  influence  of,  96, 
97. 

Ross,  E.  A.,  cited,  91,  264,  265. 

Rowntree,  B.  S.,  cited,  230. 

Royce,  J.,  cited,  110. 

Russell,  Bertrand,  cited,  13. 


INDEX 


821 


Russia,   103,   118,  219;   rehabili- 
tation of,  116,  note. 


S 


Sacred,  the,  defined,  49,  65;  aa 
primitive  element  in  religion, 
49. 

Sacrifice,  self,  in  religion,  38,  42, 
43,  60,  63,  67;  in  Christianity, 
78,  174-178,  181,  184,  209. 

Sacrificial  love,  174-178,  305. 

Salvation,  37,  132,  143,  150,  156; 

social  conception  of,  143,  144. 
i    Santayana,  George,  cited,  95,  99. 
!    Savagery,  27,  48,  55,  71-73. 

Savage  mind,  the,  27,  49-51,  55. 

Schleiter,  F.,  cited,  48. 

Schweitzer,  A.,  cited,  83,  145,  150. 

Science,  definition,  6,  9;  nature 
of,  6,  9;  effects  of,  2,  5,  12, 
107,  117;  and  reason,  6,  37,  40; 
and  religion,  viii,  2-32,  33-40, 
60,  62,  92,  110-112,  119-160; 
see  also  Social  science. 

Scientific  method,  6,  30. 

School,  and  religion,  288,  292, 
303;  and  the  church,  288,  302, 
303. 

Secularization,  28,  29. 

Seeley,  J.  R.,  cited,  84. 

Self-assertion,  99. 

Self-consciousness,  40,  71,  note. 

Self-culture,  99,  100,  187. 

Self -development,  110,  180,  187. 

Self-gratification,  100,  114,  193, 
267. 

Self-indulgence,  38,  114,  240,  267. 

Self-interest,  102-107,  109,  169, 
194,  212,  216,  261;  inadequacy 
of,  169,  179,  180,  194. 

Self-realization,  social,  100. 

Self-sacrifice,  see  Sacrifice. 

Sellars,  R.  W.,  cited,  25,  41. 

Service,  human,  as  practical 
principle  of  Christianity,  77, 
120,  159,  162,  181,  262;  as  an 
ethical  ideal,  38,  43,  60,  77,  83, 
100,  105,  120,  125,  163-168,  170, 
171,  176,  181,  191,  209;  as  an 
economic  principle,  227-229. 


Sex   and    religion,    199-203,    2«9, 
271,  275. 

Sex  education,  201,  202. 

Sexes,     relations     of,      198-203; 
Christian  ideal  of,  208,  209. 

Shenton,  Herbert  N.,  cited,  xiii, 
238 

Shotwell,  J.  T.,  cited,  7. 

Simkhovitch,  V.,  cited,  76,  80,  91, 
148,  149. 

Sin,  defined,  143;  social  concep- 
tion of,  143,  144,  176. 

Slavery,  73,  213. 

Small,  Albion  W.,  cited,  163,  212, 
220,  229. 

Smith,  G.  B,  cited,  31,  32,  117. 

Sport,  269,  273. 

Social  adaptation  and  religion, 
see  Adaptation. 

Social  attitudes,  see  Attitudes, 
social. 

Social  control,  see  Control,  social. 

Social  development,  see  Evolu- 
tion, social. 

Social  education,  see  Education, 
social. 

Social  environment,  see  Environ- 
ment, social. 

Social  groups,  see  Group. 

Social  justice,  see  Justice. 

Social  ideals,  see  Ideals. 

Social  intelligence,  see  Intelli- 
gence and  social  progress. 

Social  leadership,  see  Leadership. 

Social  mind,  63,  252,  295,  296. 

Social  obligation,  see  Obligations, 
social. 

Social  order,  see  Order. 

Social  organization,  see  Organiza- 
tion, social. 

Social  progress,  see  Progress. 

Social  reconstruction,  see  Recon- 
struction. 

Social  religion,  defined,  43,  67, 
162;  essentials  of,  128-131,  161- 
187;  genesis  of,  42,  43,  44,  66; 
and  Christianity,  76,  77,  81, 
83,  84;  and  social  science,  162- 
180;  and  the  family,  188-209; 
and  amusements,  264-279;  and 
politics,  243-263;  and  economic 


322 


INDEX 


conditions,    210-242;    and    the 

church,  280-305. 
Social  retrogression,  15,  16,  17. 
Social  science,  defined,  x,  161;  as 

a  support  of  religion,  xi,  5,  30, 

41,    90-92,    159,    162-180,    299; 

and  the  teachingg  of  Jesus,  90- 

92,  166,  177,  181-186,  207-209, 

241,  262,  278,  298-300. 
Social  values,  see  Values. 
Socialism,  Marxian,  106,  107,  226. 
Socialization,   40,    163,    168,    189, 

226,  254;   of  property,  226. 
Society,    human,    nature    of,    38, 

163,  171;  Christian,  82,  83,  87, 

92,  115,  118,  184,  209,  263,  306. 
Sociology,  x,  xii,  33,  34,  42,  61, 

70,  72,  76,  80,  91,  140,  145,  259, 

293,  300,  303. 
Sociology  of  religion,  33. 
Socrates,  97. 
Son  of  Man,  146. 
Sophists  of  Greece,  97. 
Spaulding,  E.  G.,  cited,  9,  140. 
Spencer,  Herbert,  cited,  52. 
Spending,  ethics  of,  239,  240. 
Spiritual,  defined,  45;  reality  of, 

45,  46,  111,  135,  136. 
Spirits,  see  Animism. 
State,  pagan  idea  of,  96,  103,  243, 

244,  261. 
Stoicism,  80. 

Strong,  Josiah,  cited,  91,  285. 
Subjectivism  in  religion,  125-127, 

132,  133,  140-142. 
Suffering,  human,  60,  68,  87,  114, 

167,  176,  177. 
Sunday  school,  the,  287,  292,  302, 

303. 

Sunday    observance,    277,    278. 
Supernatural  in  religion,  31,  49, 

56. 
Superstition  in  religion,  2,  22,  36, 

43. 
Sympathy,  social   importance  of, 

168-173,  254-258;  in  Christian- 
ity, 78,  84. 


Taboo,  49,  55,  65,  131. 


Tawney,  R.  H.,  cited,  212, 

224,  227. 
Taxation    in    Christian    socie 

238-240. 

Teutonic  tradition,  97. 
Theism,  25,  54,  136,  137. 
Theological  Christianity,  it,   1( 

18,  118,  286,  305. 
Theological    element   in   religion, 

x,  12,  27,  39,  59,  77,  85,  118, 

126,  127-159. 
Theology,  7,  12,  13,  18,  20,  26,  39, 

59,  85,  88,  118,  120,  121,  127, 

128,  138,  143,  145. 
Thomas,  J.  B.,  cited,  84.  85. 
Thomas,  W.  I.,  cited,  50. 
Thomson,  J.  Arthur,  cited,   11] 

163. 

Todd,  A.  J.,  cited,  163,  169. 
Toleration,  religious,  157,  158. 
Totemism,  as  a  form  of  religion, 

25. 
Tradition,   social   importance 

63,    107;    transmission  of,    34, 

62,  63 ;  conflicts  in,  75,  99,  1( 

101,  117. 
Tradition  in  religion,  4,  34,  42, 

62,  147,  186. 

Tribal  ethics,  72,  77,  83. 
Tufts,  J.  H.,  cited,  217. 


U 


Unearned  incomes,  228,  237-239. 

Unemployment,  215,  216,  234, 
235. 

Understanding,  social  importance 
of,  169-172,  255-258. 

Union  of  the  Churches,  282-280. 

Universe,  the,  in  religious  con- 
sciousness, 6,  26,  40,  46,  54, 
133-137. 

Universities  and  religion,  112, 
300. 


Values,  social,  Ix,  11,  15,  34,  39, 
41,  42-45,  54,  5"9,  62-67;  moral, 
14,  16,  53,  62;  religious,  13,  14, 


INDEX 


323 


18,  20,  39,  40-47,  53,   58,  62, 

65. 

Vicarious  suffering,  178. 
Vice,  167,  202,  269. 
Votaw,  C.  W.,  cited,  78,  80. 


W 

Wages,  low,  195,  214-216,  235. 

War,  and  social  evolution,  71, 
118,  173;  and  democracy,  259- 
261;  the  stopping  of,  116-118, 
171,  172,  173,  261;  moral  sub- 
stitute for,  130. 

War,  the  Great,  causes  of,  vii,  21, 


103-117;  effects  of,  22,  37,  94, 

115,  118,  246. 
Ward,  Harry  F.,  cited,  211,  235, 

310. 

Ward,  Lester  F.,  cited,  244. 
Wealth,  proper  use  of,  100,  212, 

239-242;    distribution   of,   222, 

223,  227-230,  236,  239. 
Webb,  C.  C.  J.,  cited,  37,  46. 
Wells,  H.  G.,  cited,  85,  92,  132. 
Will,  the,  see  Good  will. 
Wolfe,  A.  B.,  cited,  91. 
Woman,  position  of,  196,  247. 
World,  as  subject  of  redemption, 

129,  144,   158,  186,  290. 
Worship,  157,  300,  303. 


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